Hostage Situation
by Kiva Taliana
Summary: Arthur and Merlin are captured by bandits, and negotiating for their safety leaves them depending on each other.
1. Chapter 1

**I really need to stop thinking stories up, my brain gets out of control. Althought it's even worse if I don't write them!**

Sneaking up was rude. Merlin decided that the moment that something hard and heavy connected with the back of his head. He had been trying to fight, and wasn't doing that badly, even if you counted the logs and rocks that somehow got in the way. At least he was managing to hold onto his sword. Until of course that rude person had hit him. That sent him sprawling face first onto the floor, his sword skittering off and the two men he had been fending off, plus the one that had snuck up on him, prodded him with their swords.

Merlin debated using magic, one blast would knock them all over. But he didn't know where Arthur was, and he couldn't risk it, he lay still, but his head rose a little until the point of one of the swords was pressed into the scruff of his neck, easing him back down again. Merlin obligingly dropped his face into the damp grass and hoped there wasn't anything disgusting lurking in there.

"Hands on your head, and lace your fingers together," someone ordered him. Merlin blinked and the sword jabbed at him when he hesitated, so he did as he was told, resting his hands on the back of his head as he lay there. He wanted to get up, he needed to find Arthur. Where the hell was he? They had not been that far apart when the attack had happened, although they had been on top of an incline. Arthur was quite possibly on the other side. Merlin couldn't do anything until he knew what was going on.

Someone whistled and there was a reply from a short distance away. Merlin felt the base of his neck prodded again.

"Get up," a voice ordered.

Merlin started to unlace his fingers to use his hands to push himself up and he was prodded again.

"Oi!"

"How am I expected to get up then?" Merlin asked, lying still, hands on his head and sword point at his neck. "Levitate?"

A foot dug into his ribs and a hand took the back of his neckerchief. He gagged as the material was used to pull him up, cutting into his throat as his bodyweight pressed on it. Merlin struggled to breath for a moment, darkness pressing on the edge of his vision. Once he was kneeling the tension slackened but the material wasn't released. Merlin looked around, he couldn't see Arthur, and he needed to find him before he did anything.

"Don't move," one man snarled. Merlin looked up at him. He had dark hair, a thick beard and clothes had had seen better days. Honestly, if Arthur thought Merlin was messy, he hoped the prince would get a good look at this. At least Merlin made an effort.

"Not planning on it," Merlin said, looking up with wide eyes. There was another whistle from somewhere deeper in the forest.

"Get up!" the man snapped at Merlin.

"You just told me not to move," Merlin said. He tried to rear back but the hand tightened on the material of his neckerchief, forcing him to keep still. He almost moved his hands but stopped at the last minute, keeping them clamped to the back of his head.

"And that sneaking up thing isn't fair, you do know that. I'm sure it must violate the knight's code and all sorts."

The dark-haired man grabbed his chin and he brought his sword close to Merlin's face, resting the tip on his lower lip.

"Do you have any particular desire to have your tongue ripped out of your mouth?"

"No," Merlin said, and then he shook his head. He bit down on his lip to prevent himself from saying anything further. Merlin's eyes followed the man as he stepped a semi-circle in front of him. He backed away and headed up the slope. Merlin watched him go, eyes shuttling to follow him. Whoever was holding his neckerchief tightened their grip again. Merlin tried not to move but he guessed that Arthur was over the hill and Merlin was not about to object when he was hauled onto his feet by the man holding his scarf. They propelled him forward with the same grip and then added the flat of a sword blade against his backside pushing him along.

Merlin let it happen, keeping his hands on the back of his head as he was forced up the incline. As he scrambled to the top he sighed in relief as it brought Arthur into view.

He wasn't in a better position. He was on his knees, hands on his head, surrounded by eight men.

Typical, Merlin thought. There were two men who had dealt with him, really three, actually one really since it just took walking up behind him and hitting his head. Arthur needed eight of them; no doubt he had been fighting to the end. He looked sweaty and angry and injured. Merlin gasped as he saw the gash on Arthur's right hip. Without even thinking about it he ran forward, only to be pulled up by the grip on the material around his neck.

"Arthur?" Merlin coughed as he was hauled back and he was forced to make the effort to stop wriggling. Then he was shoved down the slope, feet sliding until he reached level ground and he was dragged close to Arthur. Although his head stayed angled forward, Arthur's eyes followed him, fixed and angry and moving as if he was checking every inch of Merlin over, just to make sure he was all right. Merlin tried not to feel offended. He was the one that secretly looked after Arthur, not some other way round thing.

Merlin yelped as he was pushed down onto his knees a short distance away from Arthur, and still only three men surrounded him, compared to Arthur's eight. Merlin wondered how offended he should be by the difference. He was probably more dangerous than Arthur, not that he could tell anyone.

"Well, well, the prince of Camelot," one of the men drawled, slowly sheathing his sword. He walked around Arthur in a large circle, the men with their swords drawn, keeping Arthur pinned down, shifted as the man walked. Merlin guessed he was the leader of the troop. Arthur tried to turn his head to keep the man in view for as long as possible, until a sword point jabbed into his shoulder, turning him to the front. Arthur's jaw tensed and his eyes blazed, he was not the least bit happy. Merlin watched carefully as the man walked full circle and came to stand in front of Arthur. The men holding Arthur at sword point shuffled aside to let him step closer. Arthur gazed up at him, eyes locked with his. The prince tried to flinch back as the man grabbed his chin but the swords jabbed into him on various points of his body and Arthur stilled down.

"I expect you will be worth a good ransom," he commented. Arthur gave a low growl of anger but said nothing. He wasn't in much of a position to put up a fight. Not only with him surrounded by the cluster of men, but there was the three around Merlin to consider as well. The man released him, chuckling as he stepped back. Arthur's eyes followed him as he strolled towards Merlin. Merlin looked him up and down. He was as dark-haired as the bearded man, with similar cheekbones, however there was only a light stubble along his jaw. He was a little shorter, and lighter of build, but Merlin guessed they were related in some way.

The bearded man stepped forward to join his relative, showing the similarities even more as they looked at each other. Then the one who was clearly the leader stepped towards Merlin, grabbing his chin in the same way he had Arthur's forcing his head up.

"And what about you? What are you worth?"

"He's just a servant," Arthur announced dismissively. Merlin frowned a little, he couldn't really glare in Arthur's direction since the man still held him, regarding him speculatively. After a few seconds he let Merlin go and Merlin tilted his head just a fraction to glare at Arthur. The prince was watching the interaction carefully. The leader and his comrade looked at each other for a long moment, before the leader shrugged.

"In that case, he's probably no use," the leader announced. He turned to look at one of the men behind Merlin. "Stick your sword through him."

Merlin gasped, his breath then hitched as the material around his neck pressed into his throat. The man behind him used the grip to keep him still and the point of a sword pressed into Merlin's back, as if assessing the best place to stab him. Merlin debated the magic he could use in this situation. Now and again he had come close to revealing himself to Arthur, simply because in the choice of protecting himself and the prince or keeping his magic secret, there was one day when he would have to choose one option or the other.

Before he could do anything, Arthur's voice rang out.

"Wait!"

He had clearly tried to get up, the men were pressing tighter to him, and one had grabbed his shoulder to keep him down on his knees. The leader raised a hand. The sword stayed on Merlin's back, digging into him, and he rolled his eyes upwards to try and see what was going on. He could just about keep the leader of the bandits in view, but Arthur was out of his line of vision.

"He's my servant," Arthur said, with a touch of protectiveness. "Leave him alone, he's got nothing to do with this."

Arthur wasn't sure if they were bluffing just to test him, or they really meant to hurt Merlin. Either way, he couldn't take the risk; he didn't want Merlin getting hurt. He didn't deserve it really, however often he drove Arthur mad. Arthur turned his head enough to look at Merlin and the man who was holding him, ready to drive the sword through Merlin's vulnerable back. Arthur's jaw tensed and he looked up at the leader.

"Oh, but I think he now has," the leader drawled, a smug smirk developing across his features. He moved back towards Arthur. Arthur kept his gaze moving between him and Merlin, whose fate was still, it would seem, undecided.

Merlin panted as he tried to keep himself calm and see what was happening close by. The man held his head down and the sword pressed in harder as Merlin squirmed. Instead of seeing it, Merlin had to content himself with listening to the conversation, as his fate was negotiated.

"Just leave him alone," Arthur repeated.

"Well, my young prince," the leader drawled. "If you agree to our rules, then your servant will remain alive."

"And unhurt," Arthur insisted. The dark haired man eyed him steadily and Arthur kept the eye contact. After several seconds of them doing nothing but silently gazing at each other the leader nodded.

"Very well, although his safety will remain dependant on your cooperation, while you remain captive."

Arthur looked a little chagrined at the situation but he nodded. "You have my word."

The leader gave a slight signal and Arthur relaxed, watching carefully as the man removed the sword from Merlin's back. Merlin glanced in Arthur's direction, Arthur was looking at him just as intently.

"Are you all right, Merlin?"

"Yes, Sire."

"How touching," the bearded man drawled. The leader glanced in his direction before looking back to Merlin. Merlin's eyes moved from him to Arthur and back again.

"And I presume you will obey your master's orders."

"You can presume all you like," Merlin said.

"Just what are you saying, boy," the leader growled. Arthur watched carefully.

"Merlin," he warned him. Arthur tensed as the three men guarding Merlin closed in on him. "You vowed you wouldn't hurt him!"

The leader stepped back and looked at Arthur, almost apologetically. Arthur's eyes flickered warily.

"I did, didn't I? If you cooperated, but if he doesn't, well…" the leader shrugged. Arthur braced himself, and Merlin yelped as four of the men around Arthur, grabbed him. One held his shoulders, while one grabbed his right arm, keeping it in position with his hand clamped to the back of his head. The two other men yanked his left arm out, pulling it straight. One held it steady while the second man took a firm grip of two of his fingers. Arthur could guess from that what was coming, he clenched his jaw and braced himself.

"Arthur!" Merlin yelped but the three men held him down, and he struggled against them in a futile fashion. "Don't hurt him!"

The leader shrugged and there was a sickening crack. Arthur grunted through his gritted teeth, eyes rolling in his head and nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily. Next to him he could hear Merlin struggling but he couldn't free himself. Arthur didn't flicker knowing that if he didn't put up a fight then Merlin would probably end up relatively unscathed. His hand throbbed, both fingers expertly broken, but he had been prepared for it, so his reaction was limited. He wanted to tell Merlin to stop fighting but for the moment Arthur didn't think he could trust himself to speak. He didn't hold Merlin responsible for what just happened, there was bound to be something, a small show of power so the men could prove their point. Arthur hadn't wanted it to be Merlin who suffered for it, and he had received worse than a couple of broken fingers before now.

"I'll continue if you do," the leader said to Merlin. There was a sudden stillness as Merlin stopped immediately, staying still and looking over at Arthur tentatively.

"Arthur?"

The prince took several deep breaths, still keeping his jaw clamped, muscles tensing as he dealt with the pain washing through his system. They released him and Arthur shifted, very carefully moving so he could gently pull off his glove to assess the damage. The two fingers were already starting to swell, but the breaks felt clean and expertly done. Merlin shifted, trying to get up, but he was forced down again.

"I'm fine, Merlin," Arthur said calmly, although his voice was a little strained. He eased his glove back on, figuring that the thick leather would probably help support the broken bones for the time being.

"My apologies, My Lord," the leader said, sounding genuinely contrite. "I'm unsure if your servant is ill-trained or over-protective."

"A little of both," Arthur said, wincing as he settled his gauntlet back onto his hand. Merlin wondered if he should be offended by that.

"As soon as we have reached the camp, I can arrange for your injuries to be dealt with," the leader said. Arthur nodded, he didn't want to talk too much. The leader watched for a moment before adding. "But for the time being, if you wouldn't mind..."

Arthur obligingly took the hint and put his hands on his head again, although his didn't lace his fingers together. That would have just been too much. Merlin had gone still, watching Arthur in concern as he got to his feet. The leader turned to the bearded man.

"Keep the prince's servant at least thirty paces behind, just in case."

Arthur gave Merlin a level glace before one of his guards pushed him in the right direction. Merlin could read the concern in Arthur's eyes as well as the warning for Merlin to do as he was told. Merlin stared after him, keeping his eyes fixed on the group. There wasn't anything he could do now except allow the bearded man to haul him to his feet and set off walking behind Arthur.

For the time being their safety depended on each other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Glad you are enjoying this, and just to point it out to other people, this will not be a slash story. There is more Arthur than Merlin POV this chapter. Merlin gets more of a look in next one. **

Arthur walked steadily, although his right hip was aching a little from the cut. It wasn't deep, the chain mail he was wearing had protected him to some extent, but the weight of it was now rubbing against the wound and it was irritating. Still, he had learnt to deal with these things. At least the pain in his fingers made the pain on his hip less.

He hadn't been surprised by the incident. The psychology of it was obvious to him. It was the simple balance of power, he was out numbered, he couldn't fight them all at once, and he had exposed a weakness by wanting to protect Merlin. Again the psychology worked on Merlin. Arthur didn't think Merlin would dare do anything now, in case Arthur received any more damage. And that wasn't just because he was worried about Arthur. Uther would be less than impressed over this situation.

At least Arthur could console himself with the fact that Merlin would remain unhurt. He had negotiated that. Arthur didn't worry about himself. From a young age he knew this sort of thing came with the territory, although he hadn't had his fingers broken in a long time. At least he knew he could handle the pain with a minimum amount of fuss.

Now it was just a case of watching and waiting. There would be a weakness somewhere in the group, he had to find it and exploit it. For that he would just have to observe what he could. The men knew what they were doing, keeping them separated as they walked, and keeping Merlin behind him so Arthur couldn't instruct him. If it had been someone else captured with him, Arthur might have been able to do so, but Merlin couldn't seem to fathom the most basic of the signals. It wasn't, Arthur had long ago realised, from lack of trying. Merlin would watch all the signals, with a serious expression, as if he actually comprehended them, and then every time he always seemed to do the complete opposite of what Arthur had told him to do.

He had given up trying to get Merlin to learn them. The boy was utterly hopeless, he couldn't seem to learn any skill to help defend himself. He couldn't keep hold of a sword, and he hadn't even learnt to duck. Arthur had been hurling items at him for months, and every single one found its mark. The prince wondered now if it had even actually occurred to Merlin to avoid the casually hurled missiles. Maybe he needed to start throwing a little harder, Arthur mused.

Some of the men around him tensed as he shifted his hand. The broken fingers were really started to bother him now, but he wasn't going to say anything. He moved his grip to clench his right hand around his left wrist, tucking his damaged hand away, and he tried to push aside the pain.

Instead he concentrated on considering the layout. He was still surrounded by the seven men, all with their swords drawn. Arthur couldn't see the leader, and presumed that he was behind him, but probably in front of Merlin. It was where Arthur would position himself if he was leading them, and he would have the second in command, the bearded man Arthur rightly assumed, at the back behind Merlin. That covered all areas, if either one of them tried something then the other would suffer for it. Arthur flexed his fingers again and hesitated as there was a scuffling sound from behind him.

Two sword points kept him facing forward but he slowed his pace and then ground to a halt.

"Your servant just fell, he's fine," the leader announced. Arthur tensed his shoulders and then the man seemed to change his mind. "Let him look," he ordered the men around Arthur.

Making sure he kept his hands on his head, and limiting his movement to turning on the spot Arthur looked round. Merlin was picking himself up off the floor, dusting his trousers down, until the bearded man nudged him, pressing the point of his sword into Merlin's backside, making him jump a mile. The three other men fenced Merlin in. Arthur's eyes narrowed as he watched.

"Are you all right, Merlin?"

Merlin straightened up, rubbing his backside before he put his hands back on his head. His expression was slightly sullen but he looked at Arthur with wide-eyes, something in them almost pleading with him.

"I'm fine," Merlin eventually said. Arthur's question remained unreciprocated out loud but Arthur could read Merlin's concern in his face and voice. He knew that on some levels he needed to reassure him, but Arthur didn't want to give anything away, so he just turned back again and carried on. Arthur felt a little bad, Merlin was bound to interpret that the wrong way, but Arthur wanted to show as little weakness as possible. In this situation it was the only way to be, he had learnt that from a young age. From the first time he had ever really been hurt.

He was ten, Arthur remembered. It was around his birthday, although he couldn't remember if it was before or after. But he had gone out with a patrol with his father and some of the knights. Arthur had been excited, although it was only supposed to be a safe little journey. But as he had gone off with three other knights they had been set upon. Arthur's pony had panicked at the sudden skirmish and had thrown him, giving one of the bandits time to grab him. The knights had surrendered without a fight after that.

The bandit had kept hold of him, keeping the knights a short distance from them. Until one of them managed to take a chance, when Arthur had stomped on the bandit's foot, not entirely comprehending what was happening. The knights had been subdued again, and the bandit had sat down, pulling Arthur onto his lap in a rather disturbing manner and he had proceeded to break the little finger of Arthur's left hand. One that was now broken again.

Arthur hadn't cried, even after the man had dumped him off his lap. He had cradled his damaged hand, but the shock of the pain meant he didn't cry. He had yelped out when the finger was broken but he had stared up at the man with confusion more than anything else. The look on the man's face had stayed imprinted on his memory for years. He had been furious that Arthur hadn't cried, that he couldn't manage to terrorize a ten year old boy. Then thankfully at that moment the rest of the patrol and his father had arrived.

It was that point Arthur knew never to show his feelings. He hadn't even to his father, who had been angry at the knights for allowing him to be hurt, but seemed to have no interest in comforting him. When the shock finally hit Arthur it had been Gaius' accommodating chest into which he had sobbed his heart out. There had been no one else.

Now, there was Merlin.

Deep down Arthur knew he shouldn't ever bring Merlin on patrol. He couldn't manage a sword, he often couldn't stay upright, but he always seemed to invite himself along. There was no real requirement for even the prince's manservant to come out on patrols, but Merlin fetched and carried and watered horses as was his duty, which would have gone to the younger knights had he not been there.

For some reason that Arthur had yet to fathom, Merlin's loyalty often exceeded his abilities and common sense. Which meant that he didn't understand this situation and probably didn't understand that Arthur wasn't going to blame him for the broken fingers. Arthur hoped he would, at some point, get the chance to explain that.

Arthur knew he father would pay whatever ransom they asked for, he was safe. He just needed to keep Merlin that way.

Merlin spent the walk desperately trying to think of something useful to do. Arthur stayed a good distance ahead of him, walking steadily, although Merlin noticed a slight limp on his right leg, due to the cut on his hip. Arthur didn't make any attempt to turn around and check on him, and Merlin, worried about Arthur, found it easy to stumble over his own feet and crash to the ground in his usual clumsy way.

It made the entire party stop walking, and Arthur half turned, but then was stopped. Merlin very slowly got up, but the leader, clearly not wanting to risk antagonising Arthur let him turn to check on Merlin. Merlin had then tried to get some level of response from Arthur and got nothing. He felt awful, however well Arthur had dealt with it Merlin was responsible for what had happened.

Now he didn't dare to anything. Arthur could get hurt again, and quite clearly to Merlin, Arthur was trying to prevent him from getting hurt. Merlin's eyes drifted up as the bearded man walked around again, to mutter something to his leader. Merlin hadn't quite worked out the blood link yet but he was deferring to the smaller man. Whatever the conversation the leader agreed and waved his comrade away. Merlin watched the man step back, waiting for him and his three guards to pass by him. He gazed steadily at Merlin, and Merlin pointedly gazed at Arthur.

It had also occurred to Merlin that Uther might blame him for whatever damage was inflicted on Arthur. He didn't really want to think about that. Arthur did his best most of the time but although Merlin usually ended up in the stocks he got the feeling that Uther would soon make good the threat of flogging him. It came up now and again, and it wasn't something Merlin should be worrying about right now. Not while Arthur seemed to be taking this kidnapping thing as commonplace, but Merlin didn't like it.

Merlin was frightened.

And it didn't get any better moments after Merlin realised that.

"Stop," the leader ordered. Arthur complied, and as a consequence so did Merlin. "If you could turn around please, Sire."

It sounded to Merlin like this man had done this before. Arthur followed the instruction, his expression calm but curious as he looked around. Merlin kept his eyes on Arthur, wondering what was to happen, and then he gave a yelp as his arms were grabbed and pulled down from his head, a second later a cloth sack was jammed over his head.

"You could have warned him," Arthur reproached.

"He isn't worth anything," the leader said. "We will use him to demonstrate we mean no harm, but we cannot from this point allow you to see where we are going."

Two of Merlin's guards had taken an arm each, one hand on Merlin's upper arm, the other on his wrist. Arthur got the hint, they were going to be guided the rest of the way in such a fashion. In response Arthur lowered his arms, nodding in compliance but also added.

"He can hardly keep his balance when he can see where he is going, just let him take his time," Arthur warned. The leader nodded at his men and then started to walk Merlin off the track and down through the thick ferns making up the undergrowth. True to form a few steps later Merlin slipped. His guards paused and balanced him before easing Merlin further down. Arthur watched and then nodded at the leader.

"Thank you."

"You seem to care about him."

"I'm his master, it would be remiss of me not to. My horses get the same treatment," Arthur said. The man frowned at him and then nodded. Arthur wasn't surprised when the bag was pulled over his head and two men started to guide him. They turned him in the same direction they had taken Merlin, now he just had to trust that this man would play fair, Arthur got the sense that he would.

The walk was not an easy one. Arthur carefully balanced his feet and he was warned about roots and inclines. He worked blindfold on the practice field, but that was a flat surface. There were times he slipped and the man holding his left arm flinched once or twice as Arthur huffed, and then grunted as his grip slipped and caught Arthur's damaged fingers.

"Sorry, sorry," the man stammered adjusting his grip.

"It's fine," Arthur said, sounding calm through his gritted teeth. He didn't know if it was deliberate or not but he wasn't about to start yelping. The bag made it harder to hear, Arthur couldn't tell where Merlin was, and he could only hope that they had been taken in the same direction. Arthur didn't like this, his stomach starting to swirl with butterflies, but he had to stay calm, he knew that.

They hit level ground for a moment, there was the rustle of material. Then they stopped and the bag was pulled from his head and the grip released. Arthur looked around at the interior of a small tent he found himself in. Straw was spread out on the floor in the shape of a small, makeshift bed and that was the only comfort in the small space. The area was no more than four paces in either direction. Which didn't make for much luxury. He turned to the doorway and looked at the bandit's leader.

"Where's Merlin?"

"He's safe. For obvious reasons I wish you secure you separately. I'll allow you to see him once your wounds have been treated. I do apologise for both of them, and I promise your servant will be unharmed when you see him."

"If he's not, I'd advise you not to stand so close to me," Arthur warned.

It made the man blink so Arthur racked a point up to himself. He had shown a weakness by wanting to protect Merlin, but so much as a scratch would make him retaliate. It was a simple drawing of the battle lines, and Arthur knew when to push them. So did the bandit leader.

"I understand that, I will send my healer along to treat you."

With that he left the tent. Arthur looked around, there wasn't much to look at, and he presumed he had more than enough guards around him. They could make a good deal of money from him. Arthur was, in a way, thankful it was him. Uther would probably pay his ransom, another of the knights would be left to his fate.

There was nothing else to do, Arthur carefully knelt down on the straw bed and eased up his chain mail, settling it out of the way while he eased the waistband of his trousers down to look at the damage on his hip. It was nothing more than a light cut, but it was painful, the skin around it smeared with blood. The cut was clotting, so he left it alone. Instead he took two deep breaths and started to ease his glove off. The fingers had swelled and it took a while, as he grunted through the pain.

Arthur closed his eyes, took in several short, sharp breaths before pulling and setting the bones. Gaius had taught him enough, Arthur wasn't a complete expert, but he could manage in the field. The pain made him inhale and then breathe out through his nose. If he opened his mouth he couldn't be entirely responsible for what came out of it, and not just verbally. He closed his eyes, wincing as he checked they were set correctly and then he tried to push the pain to the back of his mind.

He had just settled down when someone lifted the tent flap. Arthur looked up, blinking to clear his vision so he looked a little less feeble, and he also sat up.

"I need to check your wounds. They said your fingers were broken," the man said. He looked as roughly dressed as the other men but he sounded embarrassed about the injuries. He was followed by one of the men who Arthur recognised as his guards, who retreated after a moment's pause. The healer held his hands out, reaching for Arthur's hand.

"May I?"

Arthur shrugged at the request and let his hand be assessed. The touch was gentle.

"You've reset them."

"Yes," Arthur replied calmly.

The man looked up. He didn't at that moment, look very old, probably about Arthur's own age, maybe a little older, but that could have just been the harder life he was leading.

"I have splints, and the poultice should help control the swelling, I'll set it and then clean your wound."

"Thank you."

Arthur remained utterly calm, as his hand was set, quite well from how he could compare it with Gaius' work and his hip was cleaned and smeared with a healing balm, which was then covered with a strip of linen cloth. After that Arthur carefully dressed himself, pulling his trousers back up over his right hip and tying them. He winced a little as the chain mail swung down, brushing against it.

"I could help you out of your armour if you wish," the healer asked. Arthur shook his head.

"No, thank you, I think I'll keep it. I want to see Merlin as soon as possible."

"No one will hurt him."

"No offence, but I am not going to trust you that simply. And I don't know what might happen to him when he's out of my sight. I don't always trust him to behave when I can keep an eye on him."

"None taken, I'll speak to I'lian, he'll make sure you see your friend as soon as possible."

"He's not my friend," Arthur said coldly, method very carefully placed in his behaviour. "He's my servant."

The healer nodded, his face contorting with confusion. Arthur added nothing more, but then his head snapped up sharply as a yelp rang through the air. He was on his feet in seconds, body tense and he pushed the healer aside without thought. The man with him had no weapons, he had probably not thought to bring any. There was no need to. Outside the tent were two guards on the door and two left and right a little further away and probably more placed around the tent.

Arthur looked around, there were tents scattered around the trees, and just in front of him a central cooking area, which was quiet at that moment. There was no sound, nothing that Arthur for the moment could locate.

"My Lord, if you wait, I'll bring your servant."

"Merlin!"

Arthur ignored the assurance. Instead he yelled and waited, every fibre in his body vibrated with tension as he waited for an answer. It took a few seconds but he got one.

"Arthur!"


	3. Chapter 3

**It's always around chapter 3 I get the plot bunnies gnawing at me, so there are more twists and stuff to come, maybe... definately... probably. ;-) **

Merlin received a reception he presumed that Arthur was getting. The tent was set up for someone, someone to live in, comfortably, but always on the move. Merlin looked around, spinning on his heel as someone walked in. The bearded man. He eyed Merlin carefully, his gaze running up and down Merlin in a way that made the youth feel uncomfortable.

"Where's Arthur?" Merlin demanded.

"We're keeping you separate, just for safety's sake."

"Why? You have Arthur's word, he won't break it."

"You didn't give yours."

"I want to know that Arthur is all right," Merlin said.

"Why do you care?"

"He's my master," Merlin got it right first time. He didn't give anything away. Arthur would have been proud of him.

"That doesn't mean you have to care about him."

Merlin pondered that. The walk to the bandit's camp had given him time to think, maybe to plan. Arthur was probably doing the same. Merlin had got nervous as they had dragged him off with the bag over his head. Since he couldn't see where he was going, he stumbled several times. A few of them had been unnecessary, but Merlin did it anyway. His arms had been wrenched on occasion, where they had begun to get fed up with supporting him, but Merlin thought he could probably live with that. His clumsy servant routine had stood him in good stead the entire time he had lived in Camelot.

Some of it wasn't put on, he wasn't good with weapons, he couldn't keep hold of his sword in a fight, and Arthur was, Merlin thought, starting to accept that. It almost meant he could safely sprawl on the floor, being hopeless and clumsy so he could concentrate on looking after Arthur, and the other knights if he could.

It meant that no one saw anything. He was teased for it, but at least that helped Merlin keep the façade. Falling over was a remit he could manage. Despite all his other talents, he had never been graceful, and physically competent. He knew Arthur despaired of him, and kept throwing things at him. Merlin kept reacting but it helped him. For months Merlin had been carefully building a magical field around himself, no one could see it, but it protected him, and lessened the damage he could receive. Arthur's flying objects didn't often hurt him. Although Merlin wasn't sure if that was him or Arthur.

He had spent months watching the prince train. The things that Merlin got thrown at him did not get pelted with Arthur's full power. Merlin just figured it was Arthur. It seemed like a rather Arthur-ish thing to do, the throwing stuff, the demand to be noticed. He was the prince, Arthur thought he deserved it.

That didn't change certain things. Like Arthur's insistence that Merlin be unhurt. Merlin needed to see him. He couldn't do anything, because he didn't know where Arthur was, and he couldn't try magic in case the bandit's had something. Even if sorcery was banned in the kingdom, it didn't stop outlaws from using it. Merlin had had the 'be careful' lecture drilled into him by Gaius, and he knew to do so, and he would risk it if he thought it would help, but without Arthur in sight, he couldn't risk his safety.

Merlin backed up as the bearded man advanced.

"I may not have to, but I do care about him," Merlin said. "He's the prince of Camelot, and you won't make me betray him."

"Oh, how very brave," the man drawled, but he backed off. Merlin stopped pacing back away from him, running a circuit around the table in the centre.

"I don't think bravery comes into it. Arthur is a good man, I trust him."

"You mean you don't think that given a chance he will leave you high and dry, if he could escape."

Merlin blinked, and then he shook his head. "No, he won't leave me."

"You don't think he knows how this works. He can leave you. You're the one that pays for his behaviour."

"Not that I've seen."

"Don't worry about his broken fingers. The little prince will be fine."

"I want to see Arthur," Merlin said. "I want to know that he is all right."

"Do you really think we would hurt him, considering we can make good money from him?"

"Why would I trust you?" Merlin asked, feeling it was a good question. The man's stare became more intense, Merlin backed up a little further, almost stumbling on the small cot bed just behind him. Glancing down he froze, the sheets were a jumble of different fabrics, obviously picked up from various sources. One was very noticeable, the bright red standing out against the muted shades. Merlin couldn't see the design completely but the golden head was that of a dragon. He didn't doubt if he took a proper look at it he would see the crest of Camelot. The cloak must have belonged to a knight. The thought disturbed Merlin a little.

Merlin looked back up, moving away from the bed and trying to keep his expression neutral. The man moved forward, his stalking becoming more obvious, and then he paused by the table and lifted a jug sitting in the centre.

"Wine?" he asked.

"No, thank you," Merlin said, confused by this man's actions. There was something distinctly predatory about him. Merlin watched him warily, glancing at the doorway, hoping someone might came in, and calculating the distance, wondering if he could get to it in time. He backed up a step as the man, watching him intently, stepped a few paces to the left, blocking Merlin's run to the door.

"Not very good at accepting people's hospitality are you?"

"I'm not finding it very hospitable," Merlin retorted, trying to sound calm. As the man stepped forward Merlin held his ground, or at least he tried to. He took a step back as he watched the man's eyes flicker up and down, in a clear assessment of him and the bandit licked his lips, his eyes starting to gleam. Merlin backed up again, eyes shuttling round for inspiration as to what to do next. He had no intention of getting involved with what this man had in mind. The man smirked as he shuttled Merlin into a corner and reached up to stroke his cheek.

Arthur would have been proud of Merlin's reflexes as he ducked, and kicked out, catching the man on the back of his knee and knocking him off balance. He gave a snarl and grabbed for Merlin, getting hold of his hair. Merlin yelped as he dragged himself free, falling over and hitting the edge of the bed. He pulled himself up using the sheets, getting confirmation at the same time that it was the Pendragon symbol on the red material. He shuffled backwards as the man bore down on him. Glancing around Merlin caught sight of the box that was pushed under the cot bed. He focused for a second and the box shifted slamming against the man's foot and sending him sprawling onto the bed. Merlin rolled and lurched up to get away.

A hand latched onto the waistband of his trousers, and he was dragged backwards, pulled onto the bed with brute force. As he landed Merlin sent out a shockwave of power and pushing the man sent him flying backwards. At the same time Merlin heard Arthur's voice calling his name, concern clear in his tone. Merlin didn't know why Arthur was yelling for him but at that precise moment he didn't care, as he rolled off the bed, his intention to go the shortest route under the table towards the exit, he reacted almost by instinct.

"Arthur!" he bellowed as he was grabbed again, voice rising in pitch as the man took another forceful grip of his hair, his thick fingers twining in tightly. The man's other hand latched onto his waistband again. Merlin tried to kick him and looked for something that he could levitate at the man's head. Merlin gasped as he was thrown back across the tent, crashing into the cot bed, the frame slamming into his ribs and knocking the wind out of him. Gasping for breath he rolled of the bed and tried to duck out of the way.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Across the clearing Galen, the designated healer among the bandits, had tried to move around Arthur, hoping that he could run and get Merlin, to prevent Arthur from heading out into the camp. As Merlin replied to Arthur, Galen didn't get a chance. Arthur's reaction was instantaneous, not only responding to Merlin calling his name, but understanding the tone. Galen was pushed aside and Arthur slammed his fist into the throat of the man on his left and then crashed his left arm over the man's right, knocking the sword from his grasp. Arthur caught it as it dropped and he swung to deflect the sword of the man on his right and then smacked the hilt into the bandit's face. Galen watched from his position sprawled out on the floor and Arthur jumped over him, running off.

As he did so Galen immediately realised what was happening was not some elaborate escape plan that the two captives had devised, or pre-arranged on the off-chance that something like this might happen. The nearest boundary to the camp lay to the left, but Arthur didn't take that escape route. He headed in the direction that Merlin's voice had come from. Galen rolled to his feet. The two men Arthur had attacked were sprawled on the floor, unable to move. Three of the other guards had headed off after Arthur instead.

A few of the bandits had hardly believed that it had taken eight men to get Arthur down. Galen however, did. Some of them now and again would sneak into Camelot to get some supplies. The time Galen had gone a tournament was in progress and the citadel teemed with more people than the usual population. Strangers wandering around were commonplace during those times and blending in was a little easier. Galen had gotten the chance to go and see some of the bouts, and had witnessed some of Arthur's fights, including the final against Valiant. Although it was nearly two years ago, it stayed imprinted on Galen's memory. He had heard that Arthur was one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom, and after seeing him in action Galen was rather inclined to think Arthur was **the **best. Not that he had told anyone else. Galen didn't want to be seen hero-worshipping someone that they were supposed to hate, and be fighting against.

Rather than run after the others, he got to his feet and ran off to find I'lian. Their leader was probably going to be needed to sort this out.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Merlin's head exploded with stars as he was punched again. He felt himself flop onto the floor and he fought to get up again. As he struggled to get upright, to get anywhere, he felt another brutal blow, and he realised his protection wasn't working. Probably because he was having a good deal of trouble concentrating. He was trying to head in the vague direction of the door flap to try and find some help. The man slammed a knee into his back and Merlin dropped to the floor again, not entirely comprehending why he couldn't move, and he couldn't seem to get any air into his lungs. Just as the darkness was threatening on the edge of vision the weight was pulled off him, as the bandit was barrelled into by a very enraged Arthur Pendragon.

Rolling over Merlin looked up in shock as Arthur punched the bandit with as much force as he could muster, sending him flying across the tent. The three men who had given chase burst in. The set of Arthur's shoulders told Merlin that Arthur was keen to land another blow but with the arrival of the others he stayed where he was, acting as a physical barrier between them and Merlin. Merlin moved slowly, sitting behind Arthur which was where Arthur clearly wanted him.

The standoff remained filled with tension, the three men unsure what to do. The dark haired bandit struggled upward, glaring at Arthur. He put a hand to his nose, trying to stem the blood that had started to flow. Arthur gave a low guttural growl and clenched his fists when the man took a step forward.

"Take the prince back to his tent," the bandit ordered. The three men looked at each other, then at Arthur and Merlin, then back to their comrade.

"I am not leaving Merlin with you, since you clearly cannot be trusted."

"You attacked me, by your rules, he should pay for it."

"You started it," Arthur snapped, a line that could have sounded childish, but the low, angry tone made it anything but. Arthur put a lot of threat into those three words.

"What is going on?" the leader's voice suddenly demanded. "Barak?" he glared at the dark haired man. The three guards separated to allow I'lian through.

"He attacked me," Barak announced, glaring at Arthur. Arthur glared back, he didn't feel very inclined to repeat himself, but he guessed he ought to do so anyway.

"You vowed that Merlin would be left unhurt so long as I obeyed your rules."

"And you haven't," Barak said. I'lian said nothing, he looked at Barak carefully. Arthur watched them, his body thrumming with tension, he heard Merlin shuffling behind him, moving from a sitting to a kneeling position. Arthur reached his hand out. He felt Merlin grab his wrist and Arthur braced his arm a little as Merlin's other hand latched on a little higher up as he used Arthur's arm like a rope to haul himself up. He wobbled a little as he got upright, and Arthur put a hand on Merlin's hip to keep him steady. The action made Merlin jump. He didn't look too badly damaged, but his eyes were a little out of focus, his clothes were rumpled, and he definitely looked like he had been in some sort of scuffle.

"Are you all right, Merlin?"

"Yes, Sire."

Satisfied with that Arthur turned back. "You forced me to break the rules. Merlin is my responsibility and you were hurting him," Arthur said. Barak's face darkened with anger, but as he sent a sidelong glance to I'lian the expression faltered. The leader looked back, his expression neutral but Arthur got the feeling this was not the first time that something like this had happened within the bandit's camp.

I'lian seemed to pull himself together, meeting Arthur's gaze, and then he looked to Merlin. Merlin's hand tightened on the sleeve of Arthur's shirt.

"Arthur, it's all right," Merlin murmured. "I don't want you getting hurt because of me."

"I can assure you, your servant will not be left alone with my cousin again. If you would return to your tent My Lord, I think I can allow one indiscretion to cancel out the other."

With an indication of I'lian's hand two of the guards stepped forward. Merlin presumed the other was likely to stay with him. Arthur only moved to make sure he was able to cover Merlin against everyone in the room. I'lian's eyes narrowed.

"I do not want to conflict over this, Arthur," he said.

"It's My Lord to you, and Merlin stays within my sight."

"For God's sake, just gag and hogtie the brat!" Barak rumbled.

"Hold your tongue cousin," I'lian snarled at him. His eyes stayed locked with Arthur's. Merlin watched carefully, not entirely sure what was going on. There was an undercurrent that he couldn't entirely fathom.

"You want my cooperation, then I keep Merlin with me. You seem to treat this as if it is nothing more than a simple transaction. I can do the same, but I will not allow the random abuse of someone in my care."

Merlin frowned as he heard the tone of Arthur's voice. He was phrasing himself with particular attention to detail.

"Arthur…"

"Shut up, Merlin."

The intonation of that was one Merlin obeyed. He stayed quiet, focused his eyes on Arthur's back and waited. Eventually I'lian nodded. He looked at the three guards.

"Return the prince, and his servant, to the other tent."

Merlin felt Arthur's hand on his upper arm, making sure he had a good grip before he got Merlin moving. I'lian stepped back to let them pass, and he turned to murmur something to Galen, who was hanging behind him, watching the scene with shock. Arthur didn't pay them any attention, he just concentrated on getting Merlin moving and safely settled with him.

Then he would worry about what might come next.


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin slumped down on the straw bedding in the tent that they had set aside for Arthur. After a moment Arthur dropped down next to him.

"Thanks," Merlin murmured.

Arthur settled himself, drawing his knees up so he could rest his arms on them, he flexed his damaged hand a little.

"Don't thank me just yet," Arthur said. Merlin turned, frowning at Arthur in confusion.

"What does that mean? I mean that guy was… well… it wasn't good," Merlin said.

"And it could have been nothing more than a test to see just how far I'll go," Arthur said. Merlin frowned.

"Are you sure?"

"When I broke out of here, I could have tried to escape into the forest, but I didn't, I came to rescue you."

"Thanks. I'm not too reassured by the noticing of the escape route."

"Sorry," Arthur said, smirking at him. "Habit, but it won't be a real route out, it's too obvious."

"So, you think they were just seeing if you would rescue me?"

"Maybe," Arthur said. Merlin opened his mouth to reply. Arthur reached out and grabbed his arm, eyes fixed on the doorway. His eyes shifted sideways to glance at Merlin and taking the hint Merlin stayed quiet for a moment. A second later the tent flap lifted and Galen walked in, carrying some chains and wearing an embarrassed expression. He was closely followed by two other bandits, who were watching Arthur warily. They weren't carrying swords this time but heavy looking clubs.

"Sorry, but I've got orders," Galen said.

Arthur shrugged. Stepping forward Galen knelt down and wrapped one of the shackles around Merlin's ankle, and then locked the other one to the other ankle. He checked they were secured before stepping back.

"Are you injured?"

"I'm fine," Merlin said. He was, as he experimentally pulled the chain by spreading his ankles. Galen looked a little uncertain but he backed up.

"I'll bring some food, you must be hungry."

"Thank you," Arthur said, politely enough, but it hinted at dismissal. Galen left, the two guards remained for a few seconds longer, eyeing Arthur in a very unfriendly fashion. Merlin watched them and so did Arthur.

"We'll be outside," one of them warned. Arthur shrugged.

"Fair enough."

The guards remained for a moment longer before leaving and letting the tent flap fall. Their attempt to intimidate Arthur completely failing, at least on the surface.

"Well, that was tense," Merlin observed.

"I just took out two of them without breaking a sweat, and it took eight of them in total to take me down. Merlin, they are not going to like me."

Merlin pondered that. He couldn't really think of an answer. Despite the arrogance of it, Arthur was just stating facts. No wonder he had such a fat ego.

"What are you grinning at?" Arthur demanded. Merlin pulled his face straight.

"Nothing, nothing at all. Did you see the bed in the other tent?"

Arthur tilted his head and frowned at Merlin, leaning away from him slightly.

"I'm serious," Merlin said, his eyes staying on the tent flap in case Galen returned. "Do you recognise any of the bandits, any of them at all?"

"No," Arthur said with a shake of his head and a confused frown.

"Not Barak, or I'lian, they're a little older, so maybe you might not remember," Merlin told Arthur, his voice distancing at it turned into an outspoken thought. Arthur's frown deepened.

"There are times, Merlin, when I enjoy the inane prattle that is quintessentially yours, but this is not one of them. Have you been hit too hard around the head again?"

Merlin jerked as Arthur probed the back of his head with the heel of his hand. Merlin batted at him, until Arthur flinched and Merlin realised it was his left hand.

"Sorry," Merlin said. Arthur rested his arm carefully on his knee and tried not to move his fingers. He exhaled heavily. Merlin leant in closer to him, lowering his voice.

"On the bed, mixed in with the sheets was a cloak, with the crest of Camelot on it."

Arthur turned his head to look at Merlin, answering in just as low a tone.

"That might not mean anything. Bandits have attacked knights before and the other way round. There is a chance they just could have taken it from one of the dead."

"And used it as a bed sheet?" Merlin asked.

"Maybe."

"I'lian behaves in a very well-mannered way."

"Yes, and like many people that kidnap nobles, he knows the rules, and he knows he will get the money. I might be able to get out of here, and attempt to come back with a unit of soldiers, but then I would be picking your corpse down from whatever tree they decided to string it from. Do you understand me Merlin?"

"Absolutely, without doubt, Sire," Merlin said.

They both started as Galen lifted the flap and brought in a tray of food. The person behind him followed with a tray of drink.

"Thank you," Arthur said.

"It's not like we can offer you a huge amount, we have to be careful with what we give and…"

"I said thank you," Arthur said again, forcefully. Galen blinked, looking at Arthur in mild shock. The healer glanced to Merlin, Merlin however, was entirely used to Arthur behaving as he did. He could make good manners seem like orders, it appeared to be a royal talent. Merlin smiled up at the healer.

"Thank you," he said a little more politely than Arthur. Arthur turned to him.

"I said that."

"I know," Merlin replied. "But in that way that is quintessentially yours you still manage to make it sound rude."

Arthur's eyes widened in outrage, "I do not! Was I rude?" he turned to Galen for an answer. Galen blinked.

"No, Sire."

"See!" Arthur snapped at Merlin. Merlin looked back and waved a hand at Galen.

"Well, he's bound to say that! Ow!" Merlin yelped as Arthur clipped him around the ear. Galen backed up at that point and left the tent. Arthur and Merlin both turned to watch him go.

"Was it something we said?" Arthur asked, before reaching for the chunk of bread on the plate. Merlin reached out for something and winced as Arthur smacked his hand.

"Ow!" Merlin yelped again. Arthur picked up an apple and tossed it in the air. Merlin caught it and glared at Arthur, stuffing his face with bread.

"I can't eat just an apple!"

"Yes, you can," Arthur said calmly. "I'm the prince, I get the food, you can have whatever I don't want."

Merlin's eyes widened. "You… arrogant, spoilt, excuse of a…"

He was shut up by Arthur ripping the bread he was holding in half and jamming it into his mouth. Arthur realised that Merlin was genuinely angry, his insults more direct, and lacking their usual imagination.

"Settle down, Merlin," Arthur snapped. "Do you really think I would leave you without anything to eat?"

Merlin pulled the bread out of his mouth, biting a chunk off as he did so.

"Prat!"

"Yep, if you say so," Arthur said, deciding that was a little better. While he ate he leant down to examine the shackles around Merlin's ankles. They were thick, with a very durable lock. The chain was only a little longer than the span of his hand.

"You're not going to be going anywhere in a hurry," Arthur commented in a low tone. Merlin hurriedly swallowed the chunk of bread he was chewing.

"I presume that's the point."

"Yep, you can't go anywhere, so they know I won't."

He sat back and separated the cheese into manageable chunks. Merlin snatched the biggest and put it in his lap, his glare almost daring Arthur to try and retrieve it. Arthur ginned at him.

"Calm down. The light is starting to fade, as soon as we have eaten, we are probably best to get some rest," Arthur said in his practical tone of voice.

"Is that it?" Merlin asked. "How can you be so practical about this?"

"Because it's my job. You can't run, I doubt I will be able to carry you the distance. There is nothing we can do for now. Eat."

Merlin did, conscious of taking nothing more than Arthur. In the end they shared the meal equally, while the encroaching night enveloped the tent. Galen came to take the plates, under the light of a torch and then I'lian came, and the two guards stepped sideways to let him through. He looked at Arthur.

"I trust you checked the shackles, they are the best, and they cannot be undone easily."

"Yes, I did, and I agree," Arthur said.

Merlin grimaced, he could get out of them, breaking the locks by magic, but he didn't think Arthur would believe a story of him suddenly getting out of them. It was one of those moments that Merlin had to think. There was the balance of using magic, or using care. He wasn't fighting some monster now, he was fighting people, who were, in their own way, trying to survive.

"Guards will remain outside the tent. They will use force if there are any problems."

Arthur nodded curtly, waiting for I'lian to go. He hadn't been very tolerant of any of them since the altercation in the other tent. Arthur knew all he needed to know, and didn't want to push any other issues. As they left, they took the torches with them and darkness took over the small space, with only the lowest glow coming through from the fires outside, Arthur gave Merlin a shove.

"You're on the inside there. I'll stay outside."

"What for?" Merlin asked, going with Arthur's none to gentle shove, as he put him down on the bed, close to the back of the tent. Merlin sprawled back, looked at Arthur's boots next to his head and sat up, moving so he was lying the other way, flopping down while Arthur watched him curiously.

"I'm not having your feet anywhere near my face," Merlin commented.

Arthur laughed, Merlin settled on his back and stared up at the ceiling, seeing nothing but black.

"So, why do I have to be here?"

Arthur was lying on his side, with his back to Merlin, shuffling about to get comfortable. It made Merlin want to smack him on the back of the head.

"Because if anyone comes into the tent, they have to go through me to get to you."

Merlin turned and looked at the canvas on the other side of him, also very black. "What if they come through the back of the tent?" he queried. Arthur lifted his head, and rolled over, so he was lying on his back, shoulder to shoulder with Merlin.

"Merlin, there is a huge oak tree at the back of the tent."

"Is there?" Merlin put his hand up and pressed against the fabric, feeling the rough grooves of the bark underneath his hand. He pressed it, exploring the width of the tree, while Arthur watched him in amusement, picking up a flicker of a shadow.

"Oh yes," Merlin said calmly. While he touched it, pressing into the grooves of the tree, realising it was a very old sturdy tree, the trunk of it almost four metres in radius, he tried to sense out any magic. It wasn't hard for him, he was a creature of magic. Merlin had learnt to accept that. He was like the dragon, like a magical object. The power was his naturally, he didn't have to incant to find it, it was his. Any sort of power responded to him. Merlin was amazed that he had stayed hidden for so long, but no other sorcerers could seem to sense power the way he did. He didn't sense it in them, it wasn't theirs, they were just borrowing it.

"It means they don't need guards around the back of the tent, there will be one either side of the tree, one there and opposite," he added pointing to the side sections. "And the two on the entrance."

"It took eight to get you down," Merlin said.

"Thank you, Merlin, but there's still you, and I'm not leaving you unprotected, so you sleep there. Now get some rest, it's going to be a long day tomorrow."

"Why?" Merlin said. "We're not exactly going to be going hunting."

"No, Merlin, but it is at least half a day's ride to Camelot from here, which means any message they get to my father will arrive tomorrow. If he pays the ransom, then it might be the day after until we get released, maybe even a day beyond that."

"Are you not going to do anything?" Merlin asked.

"Not yet, it does depend if my father is the one they will go to."

Merlin turned his head to stare at Arthur in alarm, just about seeing in the dim light. "What to you mean?"

Arthur turned his head to meet Merlin's concerned expression. "I am the Crown Prince of Camelot, remember."

"Yes, I was there, at the ceremony. It was rather memorable."

"So it was. I am sole heir to the kingdom of Camelot, and not everyone in the world wants to be our friend. There are a good many people who would pay a very high price to get hold of me, captive."

"But Uther will pay, won't he?"

"He's my father, so yes. Practicality as a king will also make him say yes. I am not something that he wants in the hands of his enemy."

"You make yourself sound like some sort of object."

"In a way I am. Only title counts for something in this scenario."

Merlin turned his head to stare at the ceiling again. "Great."

"Merlin, I will not let anything happen to you. You have my word on that."

"You can't promise that. You don't know what might happen," Merlin said. "You may not end up with a choice."

"Maybe you're right, about the cloak. I'lian seems like someone who will play by the rules."

"Are there rules to this?"

"Yes, and what they did to you shouldn't have been done. He promised your safety."

"I'lian?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes."

Merlin lifted his legs, looking at the shackles holding him. He slowly lowered them, only letting his feet drop as his stomach muscles clenched.

"Merlin?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"I will do my best, I will do everything I can to protect you, I swear to you."

"I know, Sire. I trust you."

"But if it goes beyond that, if they do anything to violate the agreement, then do anything."

Merlin felt his eyes widen and he turned his head again. "Sire?"

"If they negate the agreement I made, then don't worry about me, you are to get away, any means you can, do whatever you have to. Beyond that, if you can do it, your orders are obvious, get to Camelot."

Merlin looked at Arthur, wondering if there was hidden meaning in the words. Arthur's face was serious, but there was no hint of any subtle meaning.

"You're a survivor Merlin, it doesn't matter what the situation is, you always find a way out unscathed. Just do as you are ordered."

Merlin took a deep breath and committed himself to a promise he would never keep.

"Yes, Sire."


	5. Chapter 5

**Glad everyone is enjoying this, not quite certain what else might sneak into the middle of the story, but I know where I am going for the ending. (Always quite useful to know, really) :-)**

They didn't know what time they were roused, but it was a rude awakening. Arthur was hauled to his feet and slapped around the face. He reared back and then glared at Barak stood in front of him. Two men held his arms tightly, two more were holding the heavy looking clubs. They had stopped carrying swords because they couldn't kill Arthur, beating him if necessary was another matter.

"Rise and shine, pretty boys," Barak laughed.

Merlin was also hauled to his feet, struggling against the two men that dragged him up. Barak looked from Arthur to Merlin and back again.

"What is the meaning of this?" Arthur snapped. ""Where's I'lian?"

Barak smirked, stepping closer to Arthur. Arthur tensed but there wasn't much he could do, the two bandits had a good grip of his arms, the two with the clubs looked ready to put them to use, and Merlin was watching the scene with wide eyes, moving from person to person.

"My cousin is in the process of a ransom demand. And I don't doubt we will get a very good price for you." Barak wrapped a careful hand around Arthur's throat, caressing the flesh with a light touch, but it also held a significant threat. Merlin struggled, until Arthur's eyes slid in his direction, warning him not to do anything. He subdued his behaviour, but kept a careful eye on the proceedings.

"I don't doubt that," Arthur said. Barak smirked.

"But, it will take a little time, also depending on what reply we get from your father."

At least that was one issue solved. They were going to Uther first. Merlin had no doubt that Uther would pay the ransom, Arthur had given enough reasons for that. And they had been due back at the castle yesterday, so they court would be aware that something was wrong.

"That doesn't explain what you are doing?" Arthur snarled. Barak's hand tensed, he moved a little closer to Arthur, the two men holding him tightened their grip. The two with Merlin did the same.

"As our guests, we need to keep you entertained."

"Oh, this does not sound good," Merlin announced. He gave a yelp as the man on the left punched him in the lower back, just on his kidney. Arthur tensed, trying to lurch free, but getting nowhere. Merlin gasped and sagged in the grip. The blow had hurt, but it hadn't been with the full force the man next to him seemed capable of. Still, Merlin thought it better to seem feeble, he didn't think it would hurt to let people under-estimate him. He glanced up at Arthur, whose eyes narrowed a little, but he continued to struggle and as his gaze turned to Barak he glared at him.

"Leave him alone!" Arthur commanded. Barak's eyes went from Arthur to Merlin and back again. Then his dark gaze swept the men with him.

"Bring them!"

He strolled from the tent and the guards around Arthur pushed him forward. One of the men holding a club prodded Arthur in the back as he dug his heels in, looking over his shoulder as he was dragged through the entrance. Merlin stumbled as he was pulled forward. The chains around his ankles meant he couldn't actually step forward, the best he could do was a slow, shuffle, dragging his feet along the ground as swiftly as possible to try and keep up with Arthur. He scanned the bandits. All of them looked as scruffy as Barak, but well-muscled and strong.

"Arthur!" Merlin called. They yanked him forward, so he stumbled again. He tried to get his feet back under him as they dragged him along, but he couldn't for a moment, twisting his ankle painfully.

"It's all right, Merlin," Arthur said tensely.

It didn't seem very all right to Merlin. They were dragged across the camp and past the tent where Merlin had been yesterday. Merlin did the same thing that Arthur was no doubt doing, looking around. He spotted the escape route that Arthur noticed yesterday, and the rough outline of tents it the clearing. The tent they were in seemed to be central, the main clearing in front of it held a cooking area, and logs were scattered close by, presumably where the bandits gathered.

As they passed Barak's tent on the far side, Merlin's heart sank. Twenty or so men were gathered around an open area, which looked like a training ground. The fencing was crude, a few roughly chopped wooden posts, with longer, thinner logs running across the top, make up a railing. The rail was bound to the posts by rough twine and in some places what looked to be a thick vine. It was very much an improvised construction, but it most certainly had a purpose. There was a gap between two posts, situated in the nearest corner. Arthur was shoved through it, staggering but gaining his feet before he fell.

Merlin was less lucky, they released him and pushed him forward, and automatically he took a step. Again, the chain hobbling him yanked him up short and he went sprawling face down just by the gap. It caused a ripple of laugher among the gathered bandits, Arthur glared at them furiously. He stepped forward to help Merlin up, but as Merlin struggled to his hands and knees he was grabbed by the scruff of the neck and pulled onto his feet. One of the men holding a club stepped forward to prevent Arthur from getting involved. He prodded the prince in the chest with the end of the club, pushing him and daring Arthur to push back. Arthur stayed put, gritted his teeth and kept his eyes on Merlin, and how he was being treated.

Merlin was dragged the rest of the way and shoved back against the railing. Two men stood behind the boundary grabbed him, holding him against the fence, the rail pushing into his lower back. Arthur paced a few steps, trying to work out a way to get to Merlin. Barak stayed between them, flanked by the two men with clubs. Arthur stilled down and levelled his gaze at Barak.

"Now what?" Arthur asked rudely. It had, in fact, occurred to him what might happen next. In the middle of a training ring there would be only one thing that would entertain the surrounding mob of bandits. All Arthur really needed to find out was how many he was fighting and what weapons they would be using. He just had to make sure Merlin stayed out of it.

Most of the time Merlin was very good at avoiding the worst parts of a confrontation, and he never seemed to get hurt. Arthur generally contented himself with that, teasing Merlin about it was just a fun sideline.

"Now, we want to see just how good you think you are," Barak said. Arthur smirked.

"I don't think, I know I'm good, if you want to learn that the hard way, then find by me," Arthur snapped.

"Arthur! Don't you dare, you… uumph!" Merlin was rudely cut off by the man holding his right arm also clamping a hand down over his mouth. Merlin struggled, trying to kick him, but all he did was end up pulling his legs out from under himself. He settled for glaring at Arthur.

"What are you, his mother?" Barak took a step towards Merlin.

"Hey!" Arthur yelled. "You can leave him out of this."

He lurched forward as Barak took a club from the hands of one of the waiting bandits and moved closer to Merlin. Merlin went still and looked around for something to levitate, his eyes wandered to the weapons that were clustered on the floor at the far end of the ring. A sword slowly started to shift in the pile. No one noticed, they were far too busy watching the confrontation.

"I don't think so," Barak said.

"We had an agreement."

"No," Barak corrected Arthur. "You made the bargain with my cousin, who isn't here."

He waved a hand and Merlin stopped moving the swords as another of the bandits turned to sort through the weapons, picking up two swords.

"Now, this is simple, you know we can't hurt you, it wouldn't do our payday much good if we return you dead," Barak said, taking one of the swords from the bandit, holding it in his left hand. The bandit kept hold of the second sword, eyeing Arthur with gleaming eyes. Merlin shook his head to try and dislodge the hand over his mouth. The bandit was wearing gloves of thick leather, biting wouldn't be any use. Eventually, with a snort of laughter he let Merlin go.

"Arthur, you idiot!" Merlin announced the moment he was free. Barak turned to glare at him and the bandit clamped his hand back. Merlin huffed, glaring at Arthur. Arthur shot him one brief angry glance before shifting his attention back to Barak.

"He's not very respectful, he really does need to be taught some manners," Barak drawled.

"I'm not going to let you do it, and yes, I'm aware you can't hurt me," Arthur said with a smirk. He caught the sword as Barak threw it at him.

"They're blunted, so there won't be any permanent damage, but just to make sure I know you are making an effort, if you receive any physical blow, then your friend here gets one." Barak tapped Merlin on the chest with the club he was still holding. It didn't hurt, but the hint was enough. Arthur glared, Barak shrugged and grinned.

"You did agree with my cousin that he stays safe if you cooperate," Barak added.

Merlin managed to get his mouth free again. "I don't think this counts as cooperation!"

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur announced. His eyes were roving around the ring, the tension was obvious. The bandit's aggression rose in the air like a blast of heat. Arthur guessed that Barak had wound the group up before he and Merlin had been dragged out here. The prince didn't feel too worried as he looked around. He had handled himself well enough in the initial fight, and Galen had done a good job on his hip, and his fingers. It didn't look like the bandits were going to offer him a shield, Arthur didn't particularly like the idea of attempting to hold it. Instead he checked over the feel of the sword, it wasn't balanced as he would have liked it, the hilt seemed a little too heavy but it was good enough for him.

There was a ripple from the crowd as Barak stepped back and Arthur's opponent stepped forward. Arthur shifted his shoulders, regretting not allowing Merlin to remove the armour last night, but wearing it did give him a mild advantage now. He looked the bandit up and down, his greasy dark hair was tied at the nape of his neck. The chain mail he was wearing looked like it had been last cleaned about five years ago, and the trousers and boots he had on were worn through in patches.

Arthur watched him advance forward, glancing sideways as Barak took position close to Merlin, folding his arms across his chest and resting the heavy tip of the club on his shoulder. He smirked at Arthur. Out of the corner of his eye Arthur saw Merlin's worried expression, and a glimmer of fury flickering in his eyes. Arthur wasn't quite sure who or what Merlin was angry at, Barak, the situation or Arthur himself.

Any considerations evaporated from Arthur's head as his opponent rushed forward, seeing Arthur's glance slide and assuming he was distracted. Arthur blocked the flurry of blows as the man tried to get through his defences. Arthur backed up two steps under the fury of it, and then ducked a high blow, spun on his heel and backed up into the space. A quick glance told him Merlin had stopped wriggling in the bandit's grip and was just watching, his eyes staying on Arthur most of the time, but darting around the periphery as well. It assured Arthur that if anything sneaky was attempted, he'd have good warning. He swung his sword, loosening his arm as best he could. The blows and the movement of his opponent's shoulders told him that the man relied on brute force rather than skill. Every time he moved Arthur could easily guess where he was going. He blocked a blow to his leg and then anticipated the feint to his right and met the sword as it crossed to his left shoulder. The bandit frowned, realising he had been easily outmanoeuvred. If Arthur had been facing someone in a normal training session, he would have pointed out everything that was wrong with the attack, but he wasn't going to give any of these men a sliver of tutoring. Instead he just braced his arm and pushed, making the bandit stagger back.

"Not very good, are you?" Arthur commented.

On the sidelines, Merlin rolled his eyes, the audience roared in anger, joined at the crescendo by the bandit in the ring. He ran forward, aiming a heavy blow at Arthur. The prince ducked and reversing the sword struck the man hard in the stomach, doubling him over. The bandit crashed forward and Arthur hit him sharply on the back of the head and he sprawled on the ground and lay still. The bandit's gave another roar of anger. Arthur just shrugged, stepped back and waited. Two men hauled their unconscious comrade in the ring and neither Arthur nor Merlin felt any surprise that the sword was picked up by another man. The bandit's cheered their comrade on encouragingly. Arthur exhaled a breath, readied the sword and waited for the next attack.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Merlin watched with futile anger as Arthur fought. He didn't think they could risk an escape. Arthur wouldn't take it without him and Merlin couldn't think of an excuse to escape his chains with so many witnesses. He did concentrate on helping Arthur's cause. Two of the bandits in the ring couldn't seem to keep hold of the sword, another slipped banging his head on the railing and knocking himself out – to much laugher from his friends – and Arthur managed the other five without intervention, but by the end of his eighth bout he was clearly tiring, his hair plastered down on his forehead with sweat, face flushed from the exertion. He paused as the man fell in an ungainly heap, stepping back from him. Arthur used the leather of his gauntlet to wipe away the sweat dripping into his eyes. Merlin risked a glance at Barak.

The leader of the mob looked less than thrilled with the development. By some mysterious stroke of luck not a single blow had crashed onto Arthur's armour. It was not in the interests of self-preservation that Merlin made sure of that. Well, not entirely; but it was more to prevent Arthur from worrying about him. The prince's ego was big enough that he would happily assume he was fending the bandits off without issue, but it was clear to all spectators that Arthur was tiring, his blows were lacking the impact they had at the beginning, and he wasn't moving as swiftly. He had stumbled twice in the last bout, and he had looked very surprised when he had blocked a blow that he had hardly seen coming. Merlin had knocked Arthur's arm up for the sword to meet it.

Barak waved a hand and the man stumbled from the ring, the leader grabbed a waterskin and threw it at Arthur, who just about caught it with his left hand, grimacing as it collided with his broken fingers. He jammed the point of the sword into the ground and was about to take the stopper out when Merlin intervened.

"Arthur, don't drink anything he's given you!"

Arthur paused. The crowd around them had gone still. Arthur narrowed his eyes in an unspoken question. Merlin blinked and said calmly.

"You're not supposed to have anything unless I taste it first."

That was not strictly true. His food was often checked, but it was not generally Merlin's responsibility and Arthur never questioned anything that Merlin produced for him from the kitchens. There was just the slightest quirk of Arthur's lips, no one else would really notice it, but Merlin knew he had done the right thing.

"That's true," Arthur said and he threw the waterskin in Merlin's general direction. He was still being held firmly, so he couldn't catch it. It struck his chest and dropped to the floor. Merlin looked at Barak with wide eyes, and after a moment's pause he stepped forward and grabbing the skin uncorked the top, yanking it out with a loud pop. Taking Merlin's chin he tilted his head back and forced the water into his mouth. Merlin felt his throat constrict but swallowed down as much as he could. Barak let him go.

The water tasted fine to Merlin. It was cool, and refreshing. Gaius had taught him a little, made him taste enough disgusting remedies for him to be able to pick out if something might be amiss. There was nothing bitter about the water, and no hint of sweetness. It just tasted like water. Merlin licked his lower lip to pick up some of the droplets that were threatening to run down his chin and waited a moment. Then he looked at Arthur.

"It seems okay," Merlin said. Barak handed the opened skin to the nearest man and he grabbed it, swinging under the fence and walking up handed it to Arthur. Arthur took it and drank as much as he could, gulping it down. He felt painfully aware that he also hadn't eaten since the previous day.

Merlin watched in concern, aware of the same thing. It didn't look like Barak planned to give Arthur a break any time soon. Merlin sighed with relief as a horrified voice asked.

"Barak, what are you doing?"

Merlin turned his head as best he could to look over his shoulder. Galen helped by running forward, ducking under the railing and dropping the basket of herbs he had been collecting. Several neatly tied bundles of green leaves tumbled out onto the floor. He looked from Barak, to Arthur, to Merlin in consternation until his eyes scanned the rest of the group.

"Just putting the prince through his paces," Barak commented, a few of the men laughed. Galen blinked in shock.

"But I'lian…"

"Isn't here," Barak interjected. "And it would reflect badly on us if we don't keep the poor prince entertained."

Galen gaped at him. He was as slight as Merlin, but a good head shorter than him. Barak reached out and swept the healer away. The audience had fallen silent, watching the scene unfold. Barak looked around at them congenially.

"So, who's next?"

"Why not you?" Arthur snapped. The crowd went still again. The mood changed a little at the direct challenge, and all eyes went to Barak. Arthur gave a very satisfied smirk.

"Or are you waiting until you think I am completely exhausted," Arthur asked casually. "Not really the sign of a good leader."

He gave a very significant pause before carrying on.

"Oh, but you're not the leader are you. You're just pretending that you are."

Merlin inhaled, waiting. Arthur was baiting the man, very deliberately. And if he did take down Barak, then it might just be chaotic enough for them to create a distraction, or rather for Merlin himself to. He roved over the scenery again for potential ideas.

Barak stepped forward, Arthur stood his ground, stance showing he was ready for anything Barak tried, but not, unfortunately, for what happened.

"Arthur, behind you!" Merlin yelled.

With sudden efficiency two men dived forward and grabbed Arthur, pulling him off balance and hauling him back. Arthur struggled but two more men pinned him back against the railing and wrapped twine around his wrists and binding them to the wood.

"I think it's only fair to give the prince a rest," Barak said, and then he jerked his head at the two men holding Merlin. Merlin yelped as he was pushed forward and naturally went sprawling on the floor. He rolled and sat up.

"Hey!" Arthur yelled. "Leave him alone!"

Merlin looked up at Barak, he tried to move to get to Arthur. Something struck his shoulder and Merlin winced as dirt sprayed everywhere, scattering down his clothes and into his hair. His eyes widened and he rolled as Barak swung the club down. It slammed into the ground, in the spot Merlin had been seconds before.

The crowd around them were baying for blood now. They couldn't hurt Arthur, but Merlin was a different prospect entirely.

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled.

Merlin's attention shifted in Arthur's direction. His eyes focussed on the twine around Arthur's right arm, which suddenly snapped. It was a little unfortunate for the bandit tying Arthur's left arm as Arthur swung round and punched him squarely in the face. He flew back and as Arthur yanked Merlin's eyes flashed and the twine snapped. Merlin shuffled backwards, away from Arthur, but putting distance between himself and Barak seemed important.

Barak's attention turned away from him anyway, as Arthur got free. Arthur dived for the sword, as Barak stepped forward swinging the club.

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted, while at the same time Galen rushed forward to try and put himself directly between Barak and Arthur. And Merlin winced with horror as the blow found a target.


	6. Chapter 6

**Very slowly, this story it starting to take a slightly different direction, so I'll see what my rabid plot bunnies do next. **

Arthur had dived for the sword, seeing the club coming down. Then a moment later Galen was there. He didn't attempt to stop Barak, the man was physically stronger and Galen didn't seem to want to go against him. Instead he went to grab Arthur. Arthur wasn't entirely certain what the youthful healers' intention actually was. His actions were certainly not that of someone knowledgeable in fighting and defence. In fact, Galen's gesture seemed like the kind of daft thing Merlin would do.

In that split second Arthur had to make a decision. He gave up on the idea of grabbing the sword. Although he might have been able to try and use it to block Barak's blow, Galen would be too close to make it a safe move. The scenarios calculated in Arthur's mind in a fraction of a second, so quickly that he almost didn't realise he was doing it. It was perfectly natural, he wasn't even really thinking about it, he was just acting to his surroundings. His body's responses to danger, and a fight, were all perfectly instinctive, well-honed and unconscious.

At the same time that ran through his head, he also realised that there was no way to completely stop the blow. It was too close. Arthur rolled and kicked Barak's knee, knocking him off balance and at the same time he grabbed the man's shirt. He could feel the movement of Barak's body, and the angle told Arthur the man had intended to hurt, the power of his body put into the blow. Looking higher Arthur saw the gleam in his eyes that let him know that Barak was too overtaken by rage to think rationally. Arthur knew people who had gone mad through battles, and trauma and the sight of so many awful things. He worried about himself on occasion, but in the end, Merlin always seemed to haul him back. Arthur wasn't sure if Merlin realised what he was doing, but that might have been half the power of it.

Pushing on Barak Arthur realised just how tired he was. He felt conscious of the fact he had been fighting, he hadn't eaten much and only had a small amount of water. Arthur had reserves of strength, but they could only do so much. All he could manage to do was lessen the blow as the club cracked against the back of Galen's head. It didn't land with full force but Arthur saw the droplets of blood that spurted out as Galen's skin broke, he watched the boy's head jerk. It hit low on his skull, and his head lifted. Arthur watched Galen's eyes roll in his head, his eyelids fluttering and he fell forward.

With the same lightening instinct Arthur let Barak go and he grabbed Galen, wrapping an arm around his waist as he toppled. Arthur pulled him close and let Galen's weight crash onto him, controlling his own fall as they collided and went down.

"Arthur!"

He sort of registered Merlin's shout of concern but Arthur landed on his back, Galen flopping down on top of him. Again Arthur's physical intelligence kicked in. He rolled to move Galen's limp form off him, but he moved him in the direction that Merlin's voice had come from. Very gently Arthur got Galen down on the floor, and looked him up and down.

"Merlin!"

Arthur kept the concern out of his shout, because he needed Merlin to deal with this. As he laid him down, Galen's face was pale, eyes closed and body unresponsive. Merlin responded to the shout. He moved from a sitting position onto his knees and then dropping forward, crawled towards Arthur. He was holding Galen's head gently, lifting one hand away to find his hand slick with blood.

"Merlin, what do we do?"

"Erm…" Merlin looked Galen up and down, and then put his hands under his body. "Roll him to you, careful of his head."

Neither of them really paid attention to the crowd around them, who had subdued at the sudden development. Barak stood there, the club still in his grip, his arm limp at his side. Merlin looked at the damage at the back of Galen's head. The skin had split, blood flowing from the wound, but that wasn't the problem, what could be happening under the surface was of greater concern.

"Merlin?"

Looking up, Merlin glared at Arthur, ordering him to shut up. It didn't happen often but Arthur clenched is jaw and waited, holding Galen in position while Merlin looked at the head wound.

"The blow was light, but that doesn't mean anything, it could just be a brain shake, or at worse the skull could be damaged." Merlin turned his head and looked at the club Barak was holding. It was made of a thick branch, tapering down at the handle and the widest point lay at the top, knots in the wood stood out on the bark. He could see drops of blood glistening on the wood and Merlin looked away, staring down at Galen.

"Galen!" Merlin gave him a light shake and at Merlin's movements, Arthur lay Galen down on his back again. Galen looked to be breathing fine and putting his head down on his chest, Merlin heard the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He peeled back Galen's eyelids. "Galen?"

"What do you keep shouting at him for?" Barak snapped. He almost grabbed Merlin's hair but Arthur leant up and gripped his wrist in a lightening reaction.

"He knows what he's doing," Arthur snapped. "He's trained with our court physician!"

Merlin thought that was a little bit of an over interpretation. True, Gaius lectured him and Merlin followed him around enough, he knew the basics, had some good ideas on occasion but he was nowhere close to the standard that Arthur's words had just implied. Merlin tried not to think about that, the knights were always getting bashed on the head. Most of the time they were wearing helmets, but he desperately tried to think of the other times. He couldn't remember Arthur ever having been injured in such a way. Then again he was thick-headed, Merlin sniped to himself. He gently probed the wound, ignoring the blood and trying to feel the bone underneath.

"I don't think it's fractured," he mused. "The skull hadn't been indented."

"That's good right?" Arthur asked. Merlin nodded.

"There's a bit of a lump," Merlin added. Then he shook Galen again. "Galen?" Merlin raised his voice and then pinched Galen's earlobe as hard as he could. He breathed a sigh of relief as the youth's eyelids flickered just by the merest fraction.

"He could be out for a while though; we should move him somewhere more comfortable, and I'll need to keep an eye on him. And find something too soothe the bruising, and bring down the swelling."

Arthur nodded at Merlin's musing. He presumed the rest of the bandits that had moved closer were doing the same. Most were hanging back, lingering nervously, their game having gone horribly wrong. There was still that sense of dangerous energy around the group. Arthur guessed they could easily blame him, or Merlin, for what happened.

Merlin jumped as there was a dull thud as Barak tossed the club away. He stepped forward and crouched down, his eyes on the two of his comrades who had been guarding Merlin. They did the same and stepped forward.

"We'll take him to my tent, it's nearest."

Then Barak turned and started to lift Galen, at just the same moment that Arthur did so as well, brushing their hands together. Both men jerked their heads up, looking at each other from either side of the prone healer, their faces inches apart, eyes locked in challenge. The two other men froze, watching the scene. Merlin looked from one to the other.

"Arthur, support his head," he eventually ordered.

The command diverted Arthur's attention, he glanced at Merlin and then back down to Galen.

"Right," Arthur said. He moved the grip, gingerly lifting Galen's head while Merlin tugged on the material around his neck. Pulling it clear he folded it up carefully and slid it under Galen's head, guiding Arthur's hand to it.

"Don't apply too much pressure, just rest it in your palm and try not to let it move too much."

"Okay." Arthur kept his other arm under Galen's shoulders. Barak concentrated his grip under Galen's torso, his eyes lifting to glare at Arthur on occasion. The other two men positioned themselves either side of Galen's legs, all four of them moved together to lift the unconscious man off the ground.

"I need some herbs, a poultice for the wound, something for pain relief when he wakes. What sort of store does Galen have?"

Merlin slowly got to his feet and looked around for an answer.

"What about the stuff he had with him?" Arthur asked, making the other three pause. The hovering group looked at the bundles of herbs that were now scattered on the ground. Some had been trampled in the chaos. One of the other bandits, a huge hulk of a man, bent down and started to gather them up with a care that belayed his brutal looking exterior. Some of the leaves and stems were now bruised and ripped. He put them carefully in the basket and he looked up at Merlin.

"No good?"

Merlin shook his head. "Not now, and most of those Galen had probably been collecting to dry off. He must have a store, or something."

"It will all been in Galen's tent," Barak said. He looked at the man gathering up the bundles. "Randal, take the serving brat there and let him get what he needs."

Merlin decided not to take any issue with the rudely spoken epitaph, which also made Arthur scowl, instead Merlin announced.

"And I'll need some fresh water, and a fire to heat it on."

"Don't want much do you?" Barak snarled.

"Only what I need to help him," Merlin said. Barak looked away. Arthur glanced at Merlin, who nodded, indicating that he should go with them to help carry Galen. Randall made sure he gathered all of the dropped bundles and held the basket in one hand, and grabbed Merlin's upper arm with the other. Merlin marvelled at the fact that the man's hand completely encircled his bicep, although his grip was careful. Merlin turned and stumbled again, lurching forward, but he was in no danger of falling. The huge brute of a man hardly put any effort into keeping him upright, he was as immovable as a statue as Merlin found his feet again.

Merlin glanced up at the bandit. He was a good head taller than he was, and three times broader, his limbs like tree trunks.

"This could take a while," Merlin said, babbling with mild nerves.

"No, it won't," the huge man announced, considering that. After a moment's thought he ducked down, putting one huge shoulder to Merlin's waist and hoisted him up over his shoulder, wrapping a strong forearm around Merlin's legs to keep him in place and swiftly carried him off.

"You couldn't just unchain me could you?" Merlin asked.

"No, I couldn't, I'lian has the only key."

"I hope he doesn't lose it," Merlin said. "This is a bit undignified."

"More undignified than you falling over every other step? I've never seen anyone so clumsy," Randal announced, rumbling with laughter.

"You want to try being coordinated with your ankles chained. It's not easy," Merlin said.

Randal said nothing, and a second later Merlin felt the huge man duck as he stepped forward and then entered the dim light of a tent. Merlin caught sight of bundles of herbs hanging from racks to be dried out and to his right, on another carefully constructed rack were the bundles, and bags, and jars which were presumably Galen's store. It looked as comprehensive as Gaius', if a little more improvised. Galen could probably only use what he foraged.

Merlin yelped as the big man paused and shrugged him off his shoulder, putting him on the ground with care and then taking him around the waist lifted him and carried him over to the rack. He kept careful hold of Merlin, so he didn't fall.

"I don't think Galen would like it if you fell onto his stock."

"Probably not," Merlin said, he wriggled free without much effort and crouched down, looking through the pouches and jars. Some were labelled, others were not. That made it a little difficult. He opened a few things and sniffed, picking up some scents that he knew.

"Empty that basket and put the bundles up over there. I can use it to carry what I need in."

Randal did as Merlin asked without question, carefully putting everything where Merlin said, while Merlin put a few pouches and jars in a small pile. Kneeling up he examined a few of the higher shelves, peering around, while he mentally sifted through the knowledge he had. Honey would be good, he thought, to stop the cut getting infected. There was lavender, and maybe take some mint, that would make an infusion which Galen could drink which might settle his stomach. Most people felt sick after a blow to the head. He added them to his pile and looked a little higher. Randal came with the basket and started to put Merlin's gathered pile in it.

"Ah!" Merlin said, starting to follow Galen's storage system. "This shelf is things to ease pain."

"That one is good," Randal said, pointing at a sizeable jar, which was half full of crushed herbs. "When we have headaches it works, but that's mostly from drinking too much."

Merlin pondered that and then picking up the jar next to it sniffed it and selected that instead, and some willow bark. Merlin looked around for any further inspiration, and then back into the basket. He shifted about, shuffling across the room on his knees, over to the work bench. It was another rickety piece of furniture, the top made from branches bound with twine, but it did the job. Merlin grabbed the pestle and mortar, two wooden bowls, some cloths and a jug, adding them to the basket that Randal was now carrying. Merlin shuffled away from the table to carefully get up.

"That should be enough."

"Okay," Randal said, and proceeded to gently hoist Merlin over his shoulder again, and he carried him and the basket from the tent, swiftly crossing the campsite. Merlin this time looked around. His eyes focused upwards as he sensed magic. There was a healing charm hanging in the tree by Galen's tent, the stone and feather charms dangling from it moving gently in the breeze. Merlin spread his senses, but nothing registered. Galen knew some healing magic, but Merlin didn't find that too surprising. But there was nothing else. Just roughly pitched tents, cooking fires, and random signs of survival.

Merlin only saw them as Randal carried him past, but all of the bandits were gathered around Barak's tent. They had moved aside for the larger man, but they closed ranks again as he passed and he ducked again to get through the tent's doorway. He carried Merlin across and put him down. Merlin turned as he felt hands on his shoulders and glanced behind him to Arthur, who was smirking just a little. Merlin gave him a 'don't you dare comment' glare, and then he took the basket off Randal and carefully put it on the floor. Looking up he noticed that there were now hot coals heating a blackened metal bowl. Merlin shuffled towards it.

"Arthur, water," Merlin said, turning and holding out his hand. Arthur raised his eyebrows. "I can't exactly move about, can I?"

Arthur's eyes glanced down at the shackles on Merlin's ankles before reaching for the water in the jug. Using the thick furred cloth that lay nearby Merlin took the metal bowl off the heat, placing it on the ground for a moment, waiting for it to cool. Arthur put the jug by its side and waited. Merlin sprinkled some leaves from a pouch into the small mortar and handed it to Arthur.

"Those need to be crushed."

Without comment Arthur did as he was told, both of them consciously ignoring Barak lingering by the entrance. Randal had left without a word, and the two bandits who had helped carry Galen had retreated at the same time.

"He hasn't shown any signs of waking up?" Merlin asked, glancing up at Arthur as he carefully poured a small amount of water into the metal bowl, it steamed a little. Arthur handed back the crushed leaves and Merlin tipped them in.

"What's that for?" Barak snapped as Merlin started to stir.

"It will help with the swelling, once the mixture has cooled. I'll clean the wound first. Arthur, can you put some water in one of those bowls please?"

Again Arthur moved without comment, rooting one of the wooden bowls out of the basket and filling it with water. Arthur picked out one of the absorbent leather cloths that Merlin had grabbed from Galen's bench and glanced at him for instruction.

"Should I clean it?" he asked.

"No," Merlin said, leaving the poultice to cool. He crawled over to the bed, Arthur followed with the bowl and cloth which he gave to Merlin.

"Just sit him up," Merlin said.

Arthur perched himself on the edge of the cot bed and pulled Galen up by wrapping one arm around him to lift him, and using his other hand to support Galen's head. He remained as limp as a rag doll in Arthur's arms as he propped Galen against him and steadied his head. Merlin sat on the bed and gently started to clean the wound with fresh water.

Barak glared at them from across the tent before announcing, "He had better be all right."

He swept from the tent, leaving them alone, although neither Arthur nor Merlin doubted that there were guards surrounding them.

"Let's hope we don't get blamed for this."

"How is that going to happen, Merlin?" Arthur said.

"It wasn't exactly in the negotiation if anyone else got hurt."

"I seriously doubt that I'lian will believe any excuse that Barak makes up."

"You don't know that. He'll probably make up something telling I'lian that you hurt Galen, if he believes that, then what?"

Arthur looked up into Merlin's concerned eyes. It was his safety on the line. Merlin met the gaze before turning back to concentrate on what he was doing.

"Besides, Galen's version of what happened is bound to be a little more truthful," Arthur reasoned.

"He's got to wake up first," Merlin said. Arthur shifted, resting his chin on Galen's shoulder as he held him. Merlin leant nearer so they could talk in an even lower tone.

"You think he might not?"

"I'm not an expert Arthur. I know Gaius has taught me some things, but I don't know how serious this is. He could be bleeding inside his skull, I know that could happen. I don't know what to do if it's more serious than just a concussion."

"Let's not make assumptions, Merlin. Just focus on what is happening. You can treat the wound and we'll wait and see what happens beyond that. The blow didn't get it's full impact, so chances are it won't be that serious. I've seen head wounds before as well."

"But, what if…"

"Don't what if at me, just deal with what you know and don't waste time anticipating what might be."

Merlin decided that was quite good advice, so he did that. He treated the wound and applied the poultice, crawling around to get what he needed rather than have Arthur put Galen down again. Once he was done he had Arthur put Galen down, watching as Arthur winced in pain.

"Are you all right?"

"I think I pulled a muscle during the fight, and I need to get out of this armour."

"Sit down," Merlin said, pointing to a nearby chair. "I can make something for the pain. If I can get back to Galen's tent, I can probably get something to soothe the strain."

"I'm fine, just get me out of this armour," Arthur said. Merlin crawled to the chair, and used it to stand up, shuffling behind Arthur to start unbuckling the straps. Arthur winced, but stayed as still as possible.

"How's your hand?" Merlin asked.

"Fine," Arthur said, lifting his hand to glance at it. The bindings had come loose on the splints.

"I can redo that," Merlin said.

Arthur nodded and then said, as Merlin lifted away the armour, putting it down on the floor. "Something for the pain might be nice."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. That was practically the equivalent of getting a please out of Arthur, which meant he was probably suffering more than he was willing to let on.

"Stay there," Merlin said, and he very carefully started to shuffle across the room, holding his arms out for balance as he made slow progress.

"You need your big friend to carry you," Arthur observed.

"Ha, ha," Merlin snapped, and then almost toppled as Barak came storming back. The bandit looked at Merlin, who was no where near Galen, and at Arthur who was now out of his armour. Barak fixed Merlin with a burning glare and the bandit's entire body tensed.

"You are supposed to be looking after Galen."

"I am, there is nothing more I can do," Merlin said.

Arthur rose to his feet as Barak stepped forward. Merlin stayed still. He knew if he tried to move he'd probably fall, and he tensed as Barak grabbed the front of his shirt.

"Leave him alone," Arthur said, stepping forward, realising he was saying that to people an awful lot. Barak glared at him.

"If anything happens to Galen, I will butcher your little brat!"

Arthur's jaw tensed, Merlin tried to pull back but Barak kept a firm grip of him. But they all froze as a voice announced.

"What the hell is going on?"

I'lian surveyed the scene from the doorway, eyes roving from one to the other, eventually alighting on Galen. Considering the look that crossed over the leader's face, Merlin wondered if the situation hadn't just got much, much worse.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry the update has taken a while, but manic few days recently. Next chapter is well on the way... and hopfully won't be as long... ;-)**

I'lian ignored all of them, his eyes fixed on Galen's still, pale form on the bed.

"Galen?" he asked, his voice a little uncertain.

I'lian did then turn to look at the scene around him. Merlin tried to free himself from Barak's grasp but the man's fist clenched tighter. I'lian didn't notice, instead he pushed past them to go to Galen, kneeling down next to the bed and gently cradling the young man's head.

"Galen? Son?"

Merlin blinked and sent a panicked look at Arthur. He looked just as stunned, glancing at Merlin before looking back to I'lian. There was no resemblance between the dark haired older man and the younger, mousy-blond healer. But that didn't mean anything; the connection appeared to be there. Arthur looked just as uncomfortable with the revelation.

"What happened?" I'lian asked, his voice strained as he smoothed back Galen's hair, and stroked his cheek in an attempt to rouse him. Arthur was about to say something, actually going to try and make it sound less awful than he could of, when Barak said.

"They made an escape attempt, the prince knocked him out."

"I did not!" Arthur snapped. "If nothing else, I lessened the blow so you didn't take his damn head off!"

"What the hell is this?" I'lian asked, carefully moving his fingers into Galen's hair and finding the small square of linen that Merlin had covered the treated wound with.

"I applied a poultice, as far as I can tell, there is no skull fracture, we just need to wait for him to wake up," Merlin said, trying to sound kind as well as practical. His voice wobbling didn't really help, and he looked to Arthur.

"And if we were attempting to escape, why would Merlin then make an effort to treat him?" Arthur argued.

"Guilt," Barak snapped back. "I'lian, I knew they would try something. But even I thought they would have more honour than to attack Galen."

"How dare you?" Arthur snapped at him, jumping to his feet. "I gave my word, and I do not go back on that, and I didn't hurt anyone, your idea of fun did!"

"I'lian," Merlin started, giving Arthur a pointed look. He didn't exactly want to tell Arthur to shut up, but Merlin didn't think that arguing was going to ease this situation. Arthur paused and waited. I'lian didn't look round from Galen. He concentrated on the unconscious youth. Merlin carried on talking.

"Look, erm… I can stay with him and make sure he's all right. It really wasn't anyone's fault…"

I'lian's voice cut coldly across Merlin's, stunning both him and Arthur into shocked silence.

"Barak, take the serving brat outside and flog him."

"What?" Merlin gasped, as Barak took a firmer hold of him. Barak gave a whistle and several more bandits piled into the tent. Arthur's eyes widened.

"This has nothing to do with Merlin, he tried to help."

"You vowed to obey the rules," I'lian said coldly. "Merlin was to pay the price if you didn't."

"Neither of us did anything, except get dragged into your cousin's twisted little games," Arthur retorted. He tensed as I'lian's head whipped round, glaring at him.

"And am I going to believe Uther's son over my own men!"

Arthur blinked in surprise, gazing at I'lian steadily, as if trying to see something that he hadn't noticed before.

"Barak, deal with it," I'lian ordered.

Arthur stepped forward as Barak started to haul Merlin to the opening in the tent. The men stepped aside for him. Merlin stumbled, his chained feet unable to keep up. Barak didn't relent. Arthur watched as the big man who had carried Merlin earlier grabbed his arm to keep him upright to help Barak take him outside. Arthur ran forward, and the rest of the men pounced on him.

"Merlin!" Arthur bellowed. It was a pointless fight, but he did it anyway. He landed a couple of punches before sheer weight of numbers brought him down, four men got him on the ground, pinning him down. Arthur wasn't quite sure what he ended up shouting, but it was abusive, and was roughly cut off as something was shoved into his mouth. Hands were gripping him everywhere as they rolled him over onto his stomach, and grabbed at his arms to haul them behind his back. Arthur kicked and struggled as he felt the ropes tighten around his wrists. They were bound firmly and the material in his mouth was secured. He kept giving muffled protests, but the only thing that was coherent was the growl he gave as he was pulled up onto his knees. The position put him on a level with I'lian and they locked eyes. The hatred tangible between the pair of them.

Arthur gave another deep throated growl of warning. I'lian could back off, he'd given them both enough of a scare. Merlin more than himself no doubt, the prince thought. But there was no understanding in I'lian's eyes, just a coldness that demanded revenge for someone hurting his son. It didn't matter who bore the brunt of it. The fact remained, for Arthur, that it should not have been Merlin.

I'lian stared for a moment longer, before addressing the men, his attention turning back to Galen.

"Take him out of here."

Merlin was in rather an acute state of panic. Not just because of the turn of events, but also because he couldn't see Arthur. He kept trying to glance behind him but the two burly men made it impossible. In the end he had to concentrate on where he was going as he was dragged across the clearing to a large tree, one thick branch protruded out from the trunk about eight feet off the ground. Someone was slinging a rope over it and Merlin's eyes widened, and he dug his heels in, but it was not enough to slow the two men down. He wondered, a little hysterically, if they were going to flog him or hang him.

The two men yanked him to a halt a short distance away from the dangling rope. It gave Merlin a chance to look round and realise Arthur was nowhere to be seen; presumably he was still in the tent. Merlin yelped as his jacket was roughly yanked down his arms and then his shirt was hoisted over his head. He did his best to resist but Barak held Merlin's wrists in one hand and yanked his arms up over his head. Randal pulled the material up. Barak adjusted his grip to draw the garment clear of his arms, and then he dragged Merlin forward, causing him to stumble and crash onto his knees. The bandit's free hand grabbed the swinging rope and pulled it low enough to reach Merlin, and he started to wind it around his wrists, and between them before securing the end tightly, yanking it hard to ensure it was secured. Then he turned to the man holding the other end.

"Hoist him up," Barak ordered.

The man grinned as he pulled on the rope, jerking Merlin's arms up and he had no choice but to go with the pull, struggling to his feet. He couldn't fall again, the man's weight held him as he pulled, getting Merlin onto his feet, stretching his arms up over his head, pulling just enough to force Merlin to stretch, but still allowing him to keep his feet on the ground for balance.

Merlin had a moment to turn and look for Arthur. He was being forced along by four men. Two had his arms, although Merlin could tell he had been bound. One held the front of his shirt, and the other was behind him. Arthur was struggling as hard as he could, but there was no point. They shoved him down on his knees in the clearing and Arthur eyes sought out Merlin. Their gaze didn't meet for very long. Merlin yelped in shock, turning with the force of the blow as Barak brought the whip down on him. It was like fire across his back, hitting him on the shoulder blades. Merlin gasped for breath and clenched his jaw. Barak whacked him again, this time Merlin gave nothing more than a low grunt, managing to brace himself before the blow landed.

But Barak was not about to settle for that, he threw the lash down across Merlin's back again. Merlin yelped, and Arthur did as well. He had seen floggings before, he knew weapons and he almost felt what Merlin was undergoing. The whip had three tails, all made of tightly plaited leather, and knotted at the ends to add weight. It was designed to hurt, to break the skin and Barak wasn't holding back.

Arthur could do nothing, as much as he struggled; even if he broke free he could do nothing. All he could do was watch. The smooth, pale skin of Merlin's back was slowly marred by thick red lines. Blood started to flow in places, trickling down in drops and lines. Merlin could do nothing but scream and twist, and the man holding the rope pulled his arms up higher, leaving Merlin tottering on the balls of his feet, unable to stop himself from swinging under every blow.

Merlin's back slowly started to become one red blur. Then Arthur realised, it wasn't quite like that. His eyes were filling with tears. There was some way that this was his fault. He shouldn't bring Merlin along with him, on patrols, and hunting trips and all the places that Merlin could get hurt. Why the hell did he need his servant with him anyway? Arthur thought angrily. True, it was nothing out of the ordinary. He was the prince and Merlin was his servant, if Arthur wanted him, then Merlin needed to follow.

Despite that, Arthur couldn't dredge up the memory of when he had ordered Merlin to come with him. Hunting trips maybe, but why the patrols. Had Merlin just assumed and Arthur had let him.

All his thoughts were not detracting from the sickening thuds and what were now screams echoing around the clearing. Arthur was chewing on the material in his mouth, trying to push it out with his tongue, and work a way to speak around it, to tell them to stop. He forced himself to blink, not caring if the tears ran down his cheeks. The world came into painful focus as he watched Merlin, and Barak. The bandit's eyes were gleaming, as he drew his arm back, all his force going into the blow as he hit Merlin again, drops of blood flying out under the impact. Arthur sagged down as Merlin screamed and then went into a round of panting whimpers. Despair crawled at the edges of Arthur's being, latching into him, pulling at him. Arthur couldn't stop it, and he couldn't stop watching, and just hoping that Merlin would pass out.

"Enough!" A voice roared unexpectedly.

Barak halted, turning to glare at I'lian. He still held the whip like he was ready to use it. All of Merlin's weight rested on his bound hands as he hung limply from the tree, head down, his whimpers and breaths audible over the quiet of the clearing. Arthur went very still, even trying to control the sounds of his breathing. He did not want to do anything that made it worse for Merlin. It couldn't get much worse, but the beating could continue, they could think of something increasingly brutal to do to him. It didn't help Arthur that he could think of several ideas. He was trained and lectured on techniques of how to do such things. For years he had been told he might have to, if Camelot was at war, if they had enemies.

"Cousin, they…"

"I'm aware of that," I'lian said. "But the point has been made. I say enough!"

Arthur resisted as he was hauled onto his feet. He wanted to stay by Merlin, he wanted to get to Merlin. But there was nothing he could do. The four men around him shoved him in the direction of the plain, shabby tent that he had been housed. He tried to turn to look for Merlin. The only thing that Arthur wanted was Merlin. Poor, unjustly battered Merlin, the one that Arthur had used as a bargaining tool and the whole thing had fallen apart around him. It seemed the only way to keep Merlin safe and it had resulted in this.

They dragged him into the tent and pushed him down onto his knees. A hand grabbed his hair and forced his head down, almost to the floor. Arthur tensed and wriggled, which was the only fight he could put up. He was starting to feel light headed and sick. Again he was painfully reminded, he had not eaten or drunk anything since the evening of the previous day, and he had exerted himself this morning without any sustenance. But Arthur couldn't fail now, he still had to look strong and certainly couldn't look like he was giving in.

He almost did at the next sight. They dragged Merlin into the tent. Or rather one person did. The large man Randal walked in with Merlin over his shoulder. Arthur's muffled whimper was nothing more than him stammering Merlin's name as the man dropped him off his shoulder and dumped him down on the straw bed. Merlin slumped face down, and despite everything, he was still conscious. His limps stirred slightly and he tried to life his head. Arthur clenched down on the material in his mouth to stop his jaw from wobbling.

All but two bandits all backed out of the room. They all treated Arthur like a caged animal. An angry animal. They cleared away from him, got him focussed on Merlin and then his hands and mouth were released at the same time, only the knots were loosened, they didn't touch the materials themselves. Then they left. Arthur had to pull himself clear of the bonds and drag the material from his mouth. It gave his captors enough time to escape and pull the tent flap closed, pinning it down.

There was still strong daylight out, but the material subdued that. Arthur could see clearly but the tent put it into gentle focus. Arthur crawled over and his mind sharpened as he looked at what had been done to his servant.

From shoulders to hips, Merlin's back was bruised, welts marring his skin and bleeding in patches. Arthur watched Merlin stir again, his arms stretching out and feet kicking into the straw.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked gently, putting a hand on his head. He jumped as Merlin flinched and whined.

"It's me, it's Arthur."

The flinching stopped, and Merlin attempted to shuffle closer, whining as his back hurt. Arthur moved to him, kneeling as close as he could.

"Oh Merlin, I'm sorry, I couldn't stop it, I couldn't stop them."

Merlin's reply was mumbled, all Arthur picked up in the sentence was 'sn' and 'alt' interspersed with something unintelligible. Arthur's desperately shattered nerves interpreted that, hopefully, as 'it's not your fault'. It could have been the complete opposite but Merlin was responding to him, clinging on.

Arthur slowly sat down by Merlin's head, putting his hand into Merlin's thick, dark hair and petting him gently. Merlin lifted his head, getting a sense of him and his hand latched onto Arthur's shin. Arthur wriggled even closer, lifting Merlin and turning him to rest on one shoulder, so Merlin could put his head down on Arthur's thigh, and use it as a pillow. Arthur kept his hand in Merlin's hair, it was the only part of him he dared touch, and he would never had performed such a gesture if there was any other option. But there wasn't.

So Arthur ran his fingers through Merlin's hair, and talked gently, trying to soothe, apologising a lot, and feeling something of a sickened relief when Merlin's body relaxed and oblivion took his pain away.


	8. Chapter 8

**So many people reviewed the last chapter, and a few said that Merlin would use his magic, but he generally only does under cover, and to save Arthur. so I do belive he would be that self-sacrificing. **

**And additionally, you put an idle cloak in, just as a little hint to give the surroundings a little bit of colour. There was no intention in mind when I did it, it was just a thoughtful quirk to the story, but as I wrote it, it became something. And belive me, Galen's family links were not planned, I just had to put them in as I wrote. I think most people can safely say that fanfiction tends to be posted as most writers first drafts. If I went over this three or four times before I posted it wouldn't chenge all that much, I do like to go where my stories take me... **

**And one reviewer did as for a perspective back at the castle, which I think was a good idea anyway. **

**XxxxxxxxxxxxX**

Gregory had been Sir Rupert's servant for years. He was the same age as his master, it was a new thing for him when he had been employed, but that never really seemed like an issue. Gregory had been chopped and changed around masters for a while, but none of them had been terrible to him. He had no reason to complain. And he liked Rupert, he really did, Gregory thought his life was fine. Until today.

Now, he had reason to worry. Rupert had taken him out on patrol, for the one simple reason, the knight had wanted his mare, Dancer, exercised. She had been lame for a while and now she was recovered she needed the run. Gregory had ridden her out and they had been stopped by the bandits that claimed to have Arthur. They had his ring, and had handed it over with a demand for gold and a list of other supplies.

That wasn't a worry, as Rupert delivered the message and ring to Uther, adding the instructions that only four knights could escort the carrier of the ransom. Gregory had listened with just as much concern as Rupert, but had said nothing on the frantic ride home, and poor Dancer was lame again, her offside hock swelling up from the pressure of the ride back.

"Get the ransom ready, and Leon, select four of the best knights; I will deliver the ransom myself."

There was a ripple around the room as Uther declared that, but no one argued with him, considering the look on his face. Gregory felt his heart sink into his boots, the ones that Rupert had recently bought for him because his others had worn out. He was now thrown into a quandary, because he had to make Rupert look bad. On the other hand, he couldn't leave the situation to lie. Maybe he should have voiced his suspicions to Rupert but there might not have been any need, if the scenario had played out differently.

"Sir, is that wise?" Gaius asked. "Maybe someone else should do so. To have you and Arthur in the same location, with these people could be a risk."

"He is my son, I want to look these people in the eye. They have no right to do this."

Gaius lowered his head. "Yes, Sire."

"Dismissed!" Uther snapped, quite obviously wanting to be along. Gregory swallowed deeply. He had to do it now, risking the wrath of not only Rupert, but also the king. His conscience however, firmly informed him that he had to take that risk.

"Sire, I have to… my I speak…" Gregory said. He was stood a little behind Rupert, but he had to step forward for this. Rupert glared at him in shock, so did Uther. It made Gregory wilt a fraction, but it was too late to back off now.

"And you are?" Uther snarled.

"Gregory, Sire, I'm Sir Rupert's servant. I have to tell you…"

"Sir Rupert?" Uther snapped. Gregory shut up for a moment, hanging his head so he didn't have to look at everyone staring at him.

"I don't know Sire, whatever he wants to say he hasn't told me."

"I didn't think it would matter, but it… I can't even be sure, not really. But if I don't tell you and you go to deliver the ransom…" Gregory stopped, keeping his head down. This was really not going well.

"Look up boy!" Uther roared. Gregory did. He did in fact much admire Merlin for sometimes being brave enough to stand there and face the king. And Merlin had paid a price for it now and again.

"You might as well speak up now," Rupert snarled, in a way that told Gregory he was in trouble. He might not be if he told the truth, there was no choice now. He took a deep breath and looked directly at the king, while still trying to look deferential. By the look on the king's face, he was assessing Gregory's history. From the information he had Uther's memory would work it out.

He never knew a servant's name, but he knew where they all came from. If he had turned his head, the king could not name the dark haired girl that stood at Morgana's side. But after a moment, he would remember her mother had served in Sir Leon's house and that Gwen had been recommended as a companion for Morgana by Leon's father. She had been officially posted as Morgana's maid in adulthood via a further recommendation by Leon.

Gregory thought that Uther might remember it better than he did, now he had something to pinpoint.

"It was years ago My Lord, twenty at least, and he probably didn't recognise me, not after all this time, and I can't be sure, not really. I was only young."

"Out with it!" Uther snapped.

"The bandit who came to deliver the message, about the ransom," Gregory said deciding that if he got to the point, he could get away quicker. "I think it was Sir I'lian."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Arthur tried not to tense up as the tent doorway was lifted. Merlin had been sleeping soundly and Arthur didn't want to move. But he did blink in surprise as one bandit brought his armour and Merlin's clothes. Another brought a tray of food, another bandit brought water and wine, and I'ilan waited in the doorway, stepping aside as those men left. Then another came in with a bowl of water, and a large jug that presumably held more. Soap came with it, and I'lian was holding fresh linen and two jars.

"My son woke up, he seems fine. I should thank your servant for tending to him."

Arthur huffed with laughter, shaking his head and looking around at the sudden care they were receiving.

"I'm presuming your son's version of events greatly differed from the rest."

"Your men don't just have to trust you, you have to trust them," I'lian said.

"Even if that leaves them thinking they can take advantage of you at every turn?" Arthur asked.

"I have some salve for your servant."

"Leave it with everything else," Arthur said. "I'll wake him when you're gone. I very much doubt he will want you helping him."

'And I certainly don't' was the subtext Arthur put into those words. Without further comment I'lian put the items he was holding down and turned to go, lifting the material of the tent.

"Answer me one thing," Arthur said. I'lian froze, but he didn't turn round, his hand clenched on the tent flap.

"The cloak, with the crest of Camelot, hidden in the bedding, that's not Barak's tent, and it's not just a random item."

"We've killed knights before, believe me."

"Maybe you have, I haven't evidence either way, but it's hidden, and cared for. When I looked at it I could see the material is still in good condition. If Barak had killed a knight, he would not take the cloak and hide it on the bed, it would be displayed in the camp and no doubt put under my nose the moment I arrived." Arthur paused, waiting for a response, none was forthcoming, so he filled in the gap himself.

"The cloak is yours, isn't it?"

There was a heavy silence between them. Arthur carried on filling it.

"It's cared for, and you want it safe. It's where no one will touch it. You are trying to live by the knight's code in a world where there is no room for it."

"You have no right to judge me!" I'lian snapped, turning on Arthur.

"I'm not, I'm just stating the facts, as I see them. You were a knight of Camelot. I don't remember you, I've known the knights as far back as I can ever hold a memory."

Arthur realised that stroking Merlin's hair, as he was doing now, made him feel better about the conversation. He needed Merlin, in some way to soothe the damage he had done. Merlin still slept soundly against him, as I'lian answered him.

"You were nothing more than a babe in arms when I left. I made a choice, and I don't regret it."

"Really, because you are desperately trying to live by something you left behind."

Arthur watched the anger rise up in I'lian.

"I never lost faith in any of the ideals! I trusted your father, and then I had to make a choice. The great purge left me no option! I couldn't stay while your father waged such an unjust war."

"You have magic?"

I'lian shook his head, glaring at Arthur. "My wife did. It was nothing special, a few healing spells, and she was able to see something of the future. Those things put her on the list. She was marked as someone who should die, and she had never done any harm to anyone!"

"My father did what he thought was right," Arthur said.

"Your father understood nothing of it. My son was fourteen months old, and he would have been drowned like an unwanted puppy, because he was hers. I appealed to your father. She was the wife of a knight, Galen is the son of a knight of Camelot, but nothing changed his mind. I made my choice, I do not regret it.

"My son is, my wife was, more important to me than your hypocritical code!"

"My father saved this kingdom."

"I also watched him order the drowning of scores of innocent children, suspected because of their parent's abilities. He lives with it," I'lian said, and then he turned away, going back to the entrance and lifting the flap, then he turned back to Arthur.

"I don't," I'lian said, and then the next word was spoken with utter contempt.

"Sire."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"Why in heavens name did you not warn me?" Rupert snarled at the unfortunate Gregory. Gregory was backed into the corner of the stable, he had been in the process of treating Dancer's now swollen leg, when Rupert had collared him.

"I wasn't sure."

"You still should have said something. And what the hell possessed you to do it then?"

"Because if the king had gone and then recognised him… I just thought that…" Gregory tailed off.

"What can you tell me about Sir I'lian?"

The voice made both Gregory and Rupert jump, they turned round to look at Sir Leon.

"Not that much. My father was his steward and when Lady Gilina gave birth my mother helped out as a maid. I often had to go with them, Sir I'lian never minded. He used to let me ride the horses and told me stories. I just remember him as who he was. I think it's him."

"You should have said," Rupert snapped.

"I know," Gregory said, squirming a little. Leon stepped forward.

"Rupert, I want you to be one the knights in attendance, I'll lead, and I'll add Sir Bors and Sir Oric, they are both well trained."

"Very well, I will be ready."

"We ride out in two days, at dawn."

Gregory tried not to feel increasingly worried.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"The records are clear, Sire. Sir I'lian's wife and her son were on the list for the purge," Geoffrey said. "She was to be burnt, the child drowned."

"And now they will use Arthur," Uther snapped.

"I really don't think Arthur is in any danger, Sire," Gaius said calmly. Uther glared at him.

"How can he not be?"

"Whatever has happened since then, I'lian is a good man, he was loyal, and brave. I believe he will not hurt Arthur."

Uther frowned, looking at Gaius carefully, the man looked tired. Then a thought stirred in the king's mind.

"You ward, Merlin, you're concerned for him."

"I'm sure he's fine, again I trust Sir I'lian, he was always very honourable."

"So honourable that he kidnaps the future king of Camelot, holding him for ransom."

Gaius didn't really have an answer for that. He looked away, studying the records that Geoffrey had laid out for them.

"The woman, Gilina, she was a healer, you must have known her," Uther said.

"I did My Lord, she was very competent, and well versed in many arts of healing, not just using magic. Her mother had been a healer, she passed on all her knowledge to her daughter."

"But the fact remains she used magic."

"Occasionally," Gaius said. "But she did not rely on it. Lady Gilina worked with me on countless occasions; she taught me much about healing. Many a time the women of the castle and the town called on her."

"The name seems familiar Gaius, but I cannot place her," Uther said.

"She very rarely came to court, but she was a very good midwife, the Queen used her while she was pregnant with Arthur."

"Are you saying a sorceress attended Ygraine during Arthur's birth?" Uther snarled.

"I think sorceress is too strong of a word, she only had mild abilities, and yes, she attending Ygraine, in actual fact, she saved Arthur's life."

"How could she? He was hardly born."

"The umbilical cord was caught round Arthur's neck as he passed through the birth channel, he would have choked to death on coming into the world if Gilina had not acted. She knew what she was doing."

"How do I know this was not a trick?" Uther demanded.

"Nimueh warned you."

"Don't mention that woman!"

"She told you the price Sire, that magic would take back what had been taken from it. It tried, Gilina saved Arthur."

"And it took Ygraine instead. The midwife must have been working with Nimueh."

"She was not, she used no magic, just her own knowledge and skill."

"She used magic, and for that she should have been purged," Uther said. "Sir I'lian chose to rescue her."

"She was his wife Sire," Gaius said. "And you condemned his son, who was only a year old, to death. What choice would you make?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the delay on this, but was concentrating on a few other things at the time. I haven't forgotten this though... **

Arthur had felt very reluctant to wake Merlin, but he had to. To treat him and feed and water him, he had to wake Merlin up. He shook him gently.

"Merlin? Merlin, come on, wake up."

Merlin groaned and moved, then decided that was not a good idea. Arthur shuttled out from under Merlin and laid his head down. Merlin whined and Arthur tugged on his hair.

"Look, they've brought us what we need. You need to eat and drink, and I can treat your back. Here."

Arthur poured a goblet of water out and brought it to Merlin. Merlin didn't want to even lift his head. Arthur felt a need to threaten him with everything in the world, the worst chores he could think of, because he wanted to get him to drink, but he couldn't talk for that long, so instead he said.

"Merlin, please!"

That brought Merlin's head up. His back felt like it was on fire and his muscles screamed as he lifted his shoulders and propped himself up on his elbows. Merlin gasped for breath as even the slightest movements sent ripples of pain through his body. It took a little further effort to lift his head and look up at Arthur. Merlin saw the anxiety in Arthur's eyes ease as he met his gaze and Merlin glanced at the goblet.

"You need to have something as well," Merlin pointed out.

"After you," Arthur said stubbornly.

Merlin felt ready to argue, but he gazed at Arthur. He didn't look good. His face was pale, with dark circles under his eyes, his blond hair was dull and lank and the anxious expression on his face didn't help. Merlin knew they could both be stubborn, but this occasion was probably not the time for that. Reaching out, moving tentatively, he took hold of the goblet. He grimaced as his back burnt with pain, his shoulder blade throbbing as he took hold of the goblet. He didn't regret taking a deep swallow. The water was cool, and pure tasting, sliding down his throat and dampening his dry mouth.

"Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur smiled and as a concession to Merlin's pained gaze he drank from the other goblet and started to share the food out equally. Merlin watched him, reaching for some bread and nibbling on it.

"Shouldn't you do my back first?" Merlin asked. Arthur shook his head.

"No, by the time I've done that you won't want anything, trust me."

"Something to look forward to then," Merlin sighed, looking down at the bread in his hands. "It hurts enough now."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Merlin said, reiterating what he had mumbled earlier. None of it had been Arthur's fault, not even getting kidnapped could be blamed on Arthur.

"I'm supposed to be keeping you safe."

"You did your best," Merlin said, taking another tiny bite. He felt hungry, but he didn't feel like eating. On the other hand Merlin got the feeling that Arthur would force feed him if he had to. Arthur's sudden, open attentiveness was very unnerving. One covert glance up, watching as Arthur poked through the items that had been brought them, made Merlin think that perhaps Arthur was feeling a little out of his depth. Maybe dealing with the situation he was in was fine. It was dealing with the situation with Merlin that was causing him trouble.

Merlin shifted again and another riot of pain flared across his back. He was tempted to ask how much damage there was, but got the feeling that he didn't want to know. Instead he carried on nibbling what Arthur put in front of him, and drinking the water, and eventually some wine.

"It might help with the pain," Arthur mused as he examined the two jars that I'lian had brought with him. Merlin guessed they were some kind of medicine.

"Let me look at them," Merlin said. Arthur looked up, a flicker of irritation marring his face, but only for a brief moment. "You said I'm the one that had trained with the court physician."

Looking mulish Arthur handed them over, which made Merlin smirk, briefly. Arthur carried on eating. The food was more than they had had yesterday, but it was still simple stuff. There was bread, some fruit and vegetables that had been foraged and some probably grown. Finally there was a small amount of roasted meat, which Arthur presumed they had hunted and he very carefully made sure Merlin got most of it. Arthur wasn't sure if Merlin realised or not. Arthur guessed not, Merlin was starting to look very strained. On a few occasions Arthur remembered Gaius rambling on about shock, which was some kind of condition that came with injuries. Arthur wished he hadn't tuned out so much, and he didn't want to ask Merlin, who might be suffering from said condition.

Instead he watched as Merlin examined the jars, peered and sniffed at the contents, and then handed one to Arthur.

"That needs to go in some water."

"Right," Arthur said, he picked up one of the large jugs and a bowl. "How much water?"

Merlin couldn't help the smirk as he looked at the confusion on Arthur's face. "Just fill it about half full."

"Okay," Arthur said, in a serious tone. Merlin would have liked to poke some fun at Arthur, but guessing that Arthur's seriousness was concern and guilt Merlin decided to save it for later. There would be another occasion when Arthur pretended he didn't care, and Merlin could remind him of this.

"And all of this?" Arthur asked, sniffing at the oil in the jar.

"No, probably about half of it," Merlin said, easing himself up a little further to check Arthur's progress and hissing with pain as the skin on his back screamed. Arthur eyed him warily.

"Are you all right?"

"It hurts," Merlin said. He was starting to feel sick, the food in his stomach laying a little heavily but he had to have something, and it was probably just dread at the thought of Arthur having to touch his back to wash the wounds.

"Okay," Arthur said, dipping the cloth into the water before gently applying it to Merlin's left shoulder blade. Merlin lay down under the pressure and gave a gasp.

It had been a very good idea to dread the treatment. Arthur's gentle washing was just as painful as the beating itself. The cold water seemed to burn against his red raw skin and even the mildest amount of pressure made Merlin whimper. He started to feel increasingly sick, heat pressing out from his forehead, the cold water clashing with the flames of pain on his back. Merlin gasped and whimpered, until Arthur suddenly paused and waved one of his gauntlets in Merlin's face.

"What's that for?" Merlin asked.

"Bite on it, it might help."

"I'm not sure it will."

"Trust me, it helps," Arthur assured him. Looking at the glove made Merlin think of something else. He rolled his eyes up to assess Arthur, trying to get a look at his left hand.

"How are your fingers?"

"Merlin, they're fine, the splint is holding."

"It needs rebinding," Merlin said. He tried to shift on his side and then gasped as the pain was too much and he settled down again, taking ragged, panting gasps to recover himself.

"I know," Arthur said, reaching out to help Merlin position himself again. "But let's deal with one of us at a time, and you need it more. Now, just bite that."

Merlin took the leather in his mouth, clenching his teeth down on it. He had to admit, it helped, he gnawed on it until his teeth started to ache as well. Drool ran from the corner of his mouth, and he kicked his feet on occasion, the chain on the shackles clanking, and his feet drumming on the floor. All of that was interspersed by Arthur's apologies. Merlin grunted in reply. He got the feeling that the only reason Arthur had offered the gauntlet was to keep him quiet, so no one outside would know how much he was suffering. Arthur wouldn't want to give them the satisfaction.

Although he would never find out the truth, Merlin was only partly right. It was to keep him quiet, but because Arthur couldn't bear to listen to it. Arthur blinked and inhaled heavily on occasion to control his rising emotion. It would, eventually, unleash itself as anger, but for the moment, it was fear, futility and worry. He wasn't even sure what he was doing was the right way to treat Merlin, all Arthur could assume was that Merlin's back needed washing and the thick, gloopy liquid in the other jar was something to smear on the wounds. Merlin seemed to think the same, so Arthur just concentrated on trying to deal with it.

He focused on one raised welt at a time. They were all at least an inch across. Some that had landed together were double and triple that, and if Arthur stared hard enough he could even make out the pattern of the plaited leather within in each one, and once he found that, he couldn't stop and he stared at each brutal mark. The tiny sections of unmarked skin between them did nothing more than serve as a reminder of how Merlin's skin should have looked. It appeared so pale, almost fragile against the reddened, blood smeared marks. Barak had meant to do harm when he had beaten him, Arthur had seen the power the large, well-muscled bandit had put into the lashes.

Once he had gone through the agonising process of washing Merlin's back, he then had to apply the balm. It seemed more soothing than the washing, but Arthur wondered if that was because Merlin simply couldn't feel any more pain than he was already getting. Thinking that, he applied the cream as swiftly as possible, putting the stopper on the jar once he had done.

"Finished," he assured Merlin. Merlin's answer was muffled by the leather in his mouth. Arthur very carefully waited until Merlin relaxed his jaw and took the glove away, gazing at the teeth marks that Merlin had imprinted on them, and the damp saliva that surrounded it.

"I think those teeth marks may be permanent," Arthur mused as he looked at his damp glove. Merlin gave a feeble huff of laughter and slowly raised his head.

In contrast to the redness of his back, his face was waxy, the only colour came from the dark circles under his eyes. The blue of his iris' was dulled with pain.

From Merlin's perspective, Arthur didn't look much better. His eyes were slightly red, he was just as pale, strands of hair were stuck to his forehead and his iris' were also dull.

"Let me look at your hand," Merlin demanded. Arthur looked at it. Despite the fact the bandage had unfastened Galen had bound it well enough, so that it was still holding. Arthur put it close enough to Merlin, so he didn't have to reach too far to retie it. The splints were still in place and Merlin had to lie down, resting on his elbows, so he could reach out and tie the bandage back on. Arthur winced, but only a little. Merlin looked up at him and then glanced at the remaining things that had been left.

"I presume that soap and second water jug is so you can clean up," Merlin said.

"Probably," Arthur said.

"I suppose we can use it to go to the bathroom in as well," Merlin said. Arthur reached further over and lifted up the chipped chamber pot that had been dumped on the far side. "Oh," Merlin added. "All comforts present then?"

"It would seem so," Arthur said. Merlin watched him for a moment.

"Arthur, take your shirt off."

"What?" Arthur snapped, but Merlin saw the sudden shift in his eyes. Arthur's gaze moved away from him, glancing out into the middle distance, as if he didn't want to meet Merlin's eyes.

"I want to know what you're hiding. Your fingers are broken, and you have a cut, but you're acting like there is something else. You almost said as much in the other tent."

"I did not!" Arthur's voice hardened defensively. Merlin sighed.

"Arthur."

He decided guilt-tripping Arthur would probably work. Very slowly Merlin pushed himself up, hanging his head as a wave of nausea rose in him. He wanted to keep what he had eaten down. Digging his toes into the ground he got up onto his knees and slowly eased himself up into a sitting position. Arthur was reaching out, not quite daring to touch him and looking unsure as to whether to help Merlin or force him to stay still.

"I'll help you with the chain mail," Merlin said, now utterly determined to get to Arthur's injury. He could see Arthur debate the best course of action, and in the end he gave in. There was no way he could get out of his chain mail without help so he got Merlin to hang onto it, while he held his arms straight and wriggled backwards out of it. Merlin sat back on his heels for balance and just held on, trying to ignore the pain across his back. He had to admit, he felt a little better now.

It could have been because of the treatment, the salve felt like it was cooling his red raw skin, but Merlin was just using Arthur's hidden injury to distract his mind from the pain. He wanted to see what Arthur was hiding, if he was injured Merlin wanted to make sure he was all right.

Arthur flopped backwards out of his chain mail and took the shirt from Merlin, dumping it to one side.

"Hey, I'm going to have to straighten that out if you twist the links," Merlin complained. Arthur huffed and lifted the chain mail shirt up to shake it out and he carefully laid it down, draping it across his armour. He didn't think he wanted to be wearing any of it for a while.

"Happy now," Arthur asked, once he had finished and he started unlacing the ties on the padded shirt.

"About that, yes," Merlin said. Arthur shrugged off the shirt and looked at the light cotton shift he was wearing underneath. It was grubby, sweat marks evident on the material, under his arms, across his torso and Merlin guessed on his back as well. Merlin made no comment about him having to wash it, especially as Arthur tentatively lifted the material to look at what had happened underneath. He hadn't examined it yet but both of them gasped slightly as they looked at the bruising across Arthur's side.

"Ow," Arthur commented. He shuffled closer to Merlin to allow him to examine the area. Arthur hissed and flinched as Merlin touched him. Merlin flinched back, and then cringed as the pain flared in his back.

"Your hands are cold," Arthur told Merlin.

"Oh, for heavens sake," Merlin grizzled. This time, Arthur gritted his teeth so he didn't react as Merlin's cold hands touched him. He wondered if he could request a fire or something. The days were not exactly cold but they were not warm either. Perhaps he could get a blanket to help keep Merlin warm.

Then Arthur hissed, drawing in his stomach as Merlin touched the area, probing as gently as he could.

"I don't think you have broken any ribs. Lift your arm."

Arthur managed to oblige, lifting his right arm tentatively, but Merlin could his jaw tense with pain as he tried to get his arm up.

"When did you get this?" Merlin said.

"During the fight when they captured us, I think. It started to tighten up last night."

Last night, so long ago, Merlin thought; the fight, Galen's injuries, his beating, they had all occurred today. One very long day and it was still daylight outside the tent.

"I think you might have strained the muscles or tendons around there. How did you manage to lift a sword?"

"I had to," Arthur said flatly.

"No, you didn't."

"I was worried he might hurt you."

They both carefully didn't look at each other. Merlin pressed the bruise a little more, but felt satisfied there was nothing more serious than what he surmised.

"The ointment might help with that. Do you want to wash?"

"Yes, but I'm not doing it now. Just put something on it."

Merlin wasn't going to argue with Arthur. He looked in an equal amount of pain and Merlin didn't want to prolong it. Arthur did as he was told, smearing the ointment on the bruising and sore areas.

Then they suffered through Merlin's desire to put a bandage around Arthur for support. They only had enough to wind it round his torso twice and it was done with a comedy of hands pressing, pulling and swearing when they lost grip of the material. Merlin was trying to do it while still lying down, Arthur was winding as best he could, letting Merlin support where necessary. In the end they got the makeshift bandage around him, it felt a little loose and ointment had been smeared around Arthur's torso and their hands, and the lower part of the bandage was missing the area it was supposed to bind.

"It'll do Merlin, just leave it. We need to rest."

"We should tidy up."

"No we shouldn't, someone else can do it."

"I should."

"No, you shouldn't Merlin, you can stay where you are."

Merlin did and then stirred again, looked up at the debris around the tent.

"Did they bring some blankets?"

"No, why? Are you cold? You felt cold."

"I'm not, I'm fine, I just needed to take my trousers off, just for a minute…"

"Do you need to go, they brought the pot, I don't have to look."

"No," Merlin said, sounding very tired. "I don't need to go, I already did."


	10. Chapter 10

**In response to your request Emachinescat, I did get my act together to write this chapter. **

**Plus halfway though it it became a thoughts chapter and link to the next segment. In which there will be much drama! **

Poor Merlin, Arthur discovered, had wet himself during the beating. Arthur hadn't realised at the time, so he guessed no one else really had. Neither of them cared what anyone else thought. But it added another edge to Arthur's simmering emotions.

The camp around them was riddled with its own tensions. Arthur was going to make them a good ransom, Uther would pay up, and if for some reason he didn't, other people would take Arthur. Some of the men consoled themselves with those thoughts. Others felt worried, this was a risky business, and Arthur and Merlin were a risk. A risk that that had been added to by using them as entertainment.

Underneath those thoughts the anger simmered. The bandits followed I'lian, and all of them liked Galen, who never meant any harm. Like the boy who had been beaten, to hide their embarrassment, but an act that in the end seemed to preserve it, when Galen had woken and the bandits had known what his reaction would be to the turn of events.

In the end I'lian could not refuse his son's desperate pleas. Especially when they turned into demands, which made Galen think he ought to stand up and just go and find Arthur and Merlin himself. His son wanted to see them, and make sure they were all right.

The captive pair had been in the tent for the afternoon. Neither of them had asked for anything more, which I'lian took as them having everything they needed. He expected Arthur to demand what he wanted, especially if he could cite Merlin as its recipient. But the guards outside had received no further requests. They had been told to comply if the demands were reasonable. No demands had been made. They had heard some very angry sounds from the tent, none of which were words. Any conversation between Arthur and Merlin had been low in tone, the words kept between themselves.

But throughout the afternoon there had been clattering and banging and no one on guard duty wanted to go inside and assess the cause. They were all guilty of being around the arena and although none of them were likely to be recognised they were very wary about facing Arthur.

I'lian took his son to the tent opposite, supporting him carefully. He didn't want to consider the fact that Merlin's and Arthur's care had helped him. I'lian didn't want to consider the ramifications of Galen's actions. At least taking him over to Arthur and Merlin might keep him quiet. He didn't need the rest of the men feeling restless and nervous. If he could settle and reassure Galen, then maybe it would calm the rest of them.

Arthur's head jerked up as they came in, eyes smouldering with anger. I'lian noted it faded a fraction as he saw Galen. Galen looked around at the contents of the small tent, and the mess Arthur had made. Merlin, in contrast to the burning energy Arthur was radiating, was sleeping peacefully. Or as peacefully as he could get.

He was, despite being decently covered, clearly naked. The straw bedding was packed under him and his brown jacket was spread over his upper half. His lower half was covered by Arthur's padded shirt, keeping him concealed and warm while Arthur made some attempt to wash Merlin's trousers.

The armour and clothing they were not using was placed up one corner, the food dishes set to one side by the entrance, and in the centre of all that Arthur was kneeling by a bowl of water furiously scrubbing at the material of Merlin's trousers with the soap that had been left, looking like he was making a complete hash of what he was doing.

Arthur was topless, his undershirt thrown into the rest of the pile, his body damp with sweat and dotted with soap suds. The bowl was foaming with them as Arthur scrubbed and scrubbed, the material of Merlin's trousers was lost under the bubbles that Arthur had made and his hands were red raw and even bleeding in places.

None of that stopped Arthur, he carried on scrubbing. I'lian looked at Merlin again, curled up under the makeshift covers.

"You could have requested a blanket, if your servant needed it."

"Merlin," Arthur snarled, stressing his name. "Is fine." His hand tensed on the soap and it squelched under his fingers, turning to mush. It had been damp for so long it couldn't hope to survive the pressure of Arthur's grip. I'lian watched warily, Galen watched with shock.

"What happened?" Galen asked.

"Nothing," Arthur said, but his voice sounded gentler and he glanced at Galen. "Are you all right?"

Galen nodded, and then winced, the action not being any help to his current condition. He blinked a couple of times and then looked at Merlin.

"Can I check his… wounds?" Galen asked. Arthur blinked, jaw hardening for a brief moment before relaxing, although he glared at I'lian. The prince discarded the washing, dumping Merlin's trousers into the water, along with the now mangled soap. Arthur crawled the short distance across the tent and since there was nowhere safe to shake Merlin on the shoulder Arthur settled for brushing his fingers through Merlin's hair.

"Merlin? Merlin?" Arthur said, trying to rouse his servant gently and keep his movements to a minimum. After a few seconds of stroking Merlin shifted in his sleep giving a low groan as the pain flared across his back. As Arthur carefully moved the garment protecting Merlin's upper half Galen gave a hiss of shock. Arthur looked up, the satisfaction he might have felt at Galen's shock faded as Galen pulled himself from his father's grip and he slowly went down on his knees. I'lian allowed him to, supporting Galen on the way down. Merlin gave another groan as he moved.

"Arthur, what did you wake me for?" he mumbled.

"Galen wants to take a look at you," Arthur said.

Galen was probably in no fit state to do any sort of thorough examination, but Arthur wanted him to see the damage. He didn't want to upset Galen, he was guilty of nothing, but it was the best way to get to I'lian. The way I'lian knew the best way to Arthur was through Merlin. It put them at a standoff neither of them could win. Both of them aware that the pawns they were playing with were both innocent.

"I'll bring Merlin some blankets," I'lian said, leaving the three of them alone. Arthur wondered how wise that move was, but ruefully guessed that I'lian knew neither Arthur nor Merlin would do anything to hurt the youth.

Merlin slowly raised his head, blinking as he looked up, focusing first on Arthur and then looking at Galen. His eyes widened.

"Are you all right?" Merlin demanded. "You shouldn't be moving."

"You're hurt worse than me," Galen said.

Merlin looked unconvinced, he glanced at Arthur, who gave him a steady look back, and then Merlin frowned as he spotted a smear of suds on Arthur's torso.

"What have you been doing?" Merlin asked.

"Nothing," Arthur said. Merlin peered around the tent, seeing the piles of clothes and then the bowl filled with soap and the material that used to be his trousers.

"What have you done?" Merlin exclaimed in shock. He tried to rise and reach for the bowl but he winced as the skin on his back ached, and flared with pain. He let Arthur ease him back down.

"I was washing your trousers," Arthur said.

"Very badly, honestly how can you criticise me for the way I do things when you have no idea how to do them yourself?" Merlin complained. Then he frowned again as he stared at Arthur's torso, which was now minus the bandage they had tried to get around him, and only slight traces of the ointment remained. Merlin tutted and glanced at Galen.

"Have you got some more bandages," Merlin asked. "Arthur needs his ribs wrapping up."

"I'm fine Merlin," Arthur said, his tone low with warning. Merlin's blue eyes gazed at him in shock, utter innocence in them, hardly understanding the situation. Anything that Galen found out now, would get back to I'lian, and possibly others in the camp. Arthur did not want to them knowing how badly compromised he was. Although, really, in the end, he couldn't blame Merlin for a lack of discretion, and it probably wouldn't matter anyway.

None of them were in a fit state to do anything. Arthur knew he had to look at mess, if the state of Merlin was anything to go by and the pain he was in would be obvious to any trained eye. He looked at Merlin's pale face, his dull eyes and the dark circles underneath, his hair was hanging in lank strands, and Arthur knew his own was doing the same, the ends drifting into his eyes.

Galen didn't look any better. His face was just as wan, and his eyes didn't seem entirely focused.

The three of them together proved quite a sorry sight. Arthur didn't think it was worth arguing over his injury, when Galen very carefully shuffled closer to him.

"Can you life your arm, My Lord?"

Arthur could, but it hurt to, the pain snapping through his side, especially as Galen probed around his ribs. Arthur gave a grunt of pain and gritted his teeth.

"I'm guessing he strained everything down that side, but no ribs are fractured," Merlin said. Galen nodded.

"You did this during the fight?" Galen asked. Arthur shook his head.

"No, when we were captured."

"Then how on earth did you manage to fight?" Galen asked.

Arthur's voice was flat, but angry as he answered. "I had to."

Galen stole a guilty look in Merlin's direction. Merlin gave an impassive look back. Arthur had probably made the injury worse because of it, but he wouldn't have done anything else, his goal to protect Merlin staying at the forefront of his mind. Galen looked at Arthur and nodded, taking the hint that they didn't want anyone else to know the situation. Arthur watched him and actually got the feeling that Galen would keep it to himself, the group of bandits were not exactly in his good books at the moment.

Hearing footsteps Arthur abruptly lowered his arm and Galen turned his attention to Merlin's back. The ointment had done some good but the welts were still raised and red, looking painful. Merlin lay still, not wanting to move. Every time he did something hurt.

I'lian stepped through the doorway, a thick layer of blankets over one arm. He paused as he looked at the scene, staring at his son sadly. Arthur watched him carefully, standing up to retrieve the blankets from I'lian, he didn't want the man anywhere near Merlin. Arthur glanced down and looked at the folded item on top.

"I thought Merlin might need them."

"I need some more things to treat Merlin with," Galen said, turning to his father. He kept his eyes firmly off Arthur, but Arthur knew, it was probably to help him.

"What?" I'lian asked. "I'll fetch it."

"No, I'll come and get it, I'll need to mix a few things. I won't be long."

Arthur stepped back to allow I'lian to help Galen onto his feet. He wavered a little, swallowing heavily and I'lian supported him carefully.

"Should he be moving around?" Arthur asked. I'lian glared at him.

"He wanted to come and see you," I'lian answered, holding Galen gently as he led him from the tent. Arthur said nothing, he just glared for a moment before pulling himself together and kneeling by Merlin he started to sort the blankets out.

"I'lian gave you these," Arthur said holding up the trousers. Merlin raised his eyebrows.

"Well, I think mine are a bit beyond hope," Merlin commented, glancing at the mess in the bowl. Arthur scowled, while he shook out blankets.

"I did my best," the prince commented. Merlin reached out and grabbed Arthur's wrist, looking at the red raw skin and traces of blood on his knuckles and fingers.

"I think you overdid your best," Merlin said. "I take it the tidying up is your work as well. I presume the chaos is organised."

Arthur scowled at him. "I just followed your methodology," he announced, while trying to spread out one of the blankets.

"Ha, funny. If I was that bad you would have fired me."

"And wouldn't life be so dull," Arthur drawled, eventually winning the fight with the blanket, and then he looked at Merlin.

"What?" Merlin asked.

"I need to get the blanket under you, can you move?"

Merlin grimaced, before very slowly rising up onto his knees. Arthur's shirt slid off his lower half, Merlin glared at it in irritation.

"Hurry up," Merlin said, aware of the fact that he was now uncovered. He glared at Arthur, who was now having another argument with the blanket as he tried to spread it out and then push it under Merlin. Merlin lifted his hand and dragged the blanket at the top while Arthur pushed it under his knees, trying to keep it from getting too rumpled. Merlin shoved with his lower legs and feet to get it into a reasonable position. As soon as it was he lay back down again.

"It's not straight," Arthur complained, tugging on the edges.

"It will do," Merlin snapped, closing his eyes trying to ignore the pain that moving had caused him. Arthur stopped fussing and worked on the next blanket by dropping it onto Merlin's backside and folding it out from there, until his lower half was decently covered. He kept Merlin's back bare, looking at the damage.

"Do you feel all right?"

"As well as can be expected," Merlin said, sounding tired again. Arthur settled for patting Merlin's upper arm and sat back. He looked around for something to do and settled for tucking the blanket around Merlin.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Arthur said, still tucking. Merlin looked around, at the angry attempts to tidy up. He wasn't quite sure how the piles of things in the tent looked angry, but they did. And the excessive washing signalled to him that Arthur was not doing very well. He was not someone who coped well with confinement, and frustration. There was nothing Arthur could do, he couldn't plan an escape, since Merlin was in no fit state to move, all he could do was wait, and there was nothing but Merlin to occupy his mind in the interim. Considering that Merlin wisely stayed quiet and let Arthur carry on with his fumbling fussing.

Until Galen came back. He looked steadier this time, taking the equipment off Ilian and making his own way into the tent, sitting down and sorting through what he had brought.

"This one should help better with the pain," Galen said, holding up a jar. Merlin nodded, taking the hint. If he couldn't do it now, Galen would leave enough for Arthur's treatment as well. Merlin glanced at I'lian as Arthur muscled in on what Galen was doing, because he wanted something to do.

I'lian clearly didn't realise that Merlin was watching, and that Arthur also noticed the look on I'lian's face.

It occurred to Arthur, as he saw the expression on I'lian's face what might have occurred if I'lian had not been forced to flee Camelot. Galen would have been raised in the castle and as the son of a knight would have, quite naturally, tried out for the ranks himself. He was of such an age that he could have easily been chosen as a companion for Arthur, as a child. Arthur considered that.

Looking at Galen now, assessing him with the critical eye he had, Galen was certainly not knight material. But then again, Arthur had trained many like that; he had seen it throughout his entire lifetime. It was something so expected that some of the knights hadn't considered anything else. Still, if he didn't make it as a knight, he would have been somewhere in the ranks of the court. If nothing else, his skill as a healer would have been put to use by Gaius.

I'lian had done what he had to save his son's life, but there wasn't much of it. Living in the forest, hardly able to settle anywhere, and although it was all Galen knew, it wasn't the same for I'lian. All he could see now was what his son had been deprived of. Because of Arthur. Despite the protestations Merlin had made after their altercation with Morgause there were too many coincidences for Arthur to ignore.

He could accept the vision of his mother was a manipulation. Morgause twisted the facts to what she wanted of him. So many people had tried to kill his father, and himself, over the years, her actions couldn't be disputed. And so many people had told him how much his father had loved his mother, and that the feeling had been reciprocated.

But the chain reaction beyond his birth was something he could connect with those facts. There didn't seem much doubt to Arthur that his birth had caused something, that somehow he was at the centre of so much, and not a single perspective was a true one. I'lian's and Galen's was just another one to add to his contemplation of things around him.

Despite the respect he was trying to show for his royal hostage, Arthur didn't doubt that I'lian resented him, or actually more than likely hated him.

Quite frankly, Arthur wasn't that inclined to blame him.


	11. Chapter 11

**CM I hadn't realised it had been that long. Here's the next chapter, I hurried up and finished it. **

Time passed and they stayed in the tent. Meals appeared, which they ate, the chamber pot got taken away and returned. Merlin eventually dressed himself in the trousers and attempted to salvage his own. The rest of that day and then another passed before dawn on the third day was crudely interrupted by six men entering the tents, two of them holding coils of rope.

Barak smirked at them, and nodded at one man who moved forward carefully, eyeing Arthur as he stepped towards Merlin, going down on one knee to unlock the shackles around Merlin's ankles. Once they were free the bandit stepped back, getting out of Arthur's range as he started to stand up.

"Face the wall, and put your hands behind your backs," Barak ordered.

"It's not a wall," Merlin announced peevishly, and Arthur had to move quickly, grabbing Merlin's collar and hauling him up, to stop him being kicked.

"We need to dress. You should have warned us that we needed to be ready."

Barak looked ready to object to that but Arthur's glare quelled the men around his rival. He put the shirt over Merlin's head and put his arms through the sleeves. Merlin hissed with pain as the material touched the skin of his back. He exhaled as Arthur shrugged his jacket on.

"Can you get me into my armour?" Arthur asked in a low tone, for Merlin's ears only. Merlin nodded.

"I need my armour on!" Arthur announced in an entirely different voice, for the benefit of the crowd he used the demanding tone that Merlin was quite used to hearing from Arthur, when he wanted things done. Merlin lowered his head in deference, and to hide his smirk. Arthur was good, he could be really good. It often made Merlin wondered, how much of Arthur's reputation as an arrogant bully was nothing more than a front.

"Yes, Sire."

Merlin proved he was made of the same stern stuff as Arthur. Arthur had known it from the first day he had met Merlin. He always reminded himself of those facts. Merlin would always be rude, tell him off, tell him when he needed to do something. Arthur would have rather died than tell Merlin how much he relied on him, but he hoped in the desperate situations that Merlin understood how it was.

He did know and Merlin figured that Arthur knew.

It was not easy for Merlin to do it. His back was still tight and painful and pulling on every part of his body but he laboriously went through the full motions. The bandit's could have hurried them up but no one seemed to dare to move, they all watched with fascination as Merlin struggled around, aided by Arthur's movement, to put on the prince's armour onto him. Neither of them was that phased by the audience. At tournaments it was common enough that Arthur stood outside for the final part of Merlin dressing him. The chain mail, arm guards, sword belt, sword and helmet. It was almost a tourist attraction in Camelot. To see the prince, in his armour, his servant fussing around him, who often felt a little flustered under the stares.

The state of Merlin's back made for the show this time. Everyone watching knew how badly he had been damaged, but he moved with utter resolution in his eyes and every time Arthur shifted to help him he was glared at. Merlin was doing this, all on is own, he was not about to look feeble in front of any of them.

Finally Merlin got to the last stage and kneeling down put Arthur's belt around his waist. He felt a little bit lost as he slowly stood up, aided by Arthur's hand on his side. Arthur hadn't been wearing his helmet and his weapons had been taken from him. At that moment Arthur did one last thing, he yanked on the bandage holding the splint for his fingers and pulled the whole lot off.

"Gloves, Merlin," Arthur said.

Merlin looked around in confusion, wondering where the hell they had gone. He found one, but the other seemed to have vanished, until one of the bandits stepped forward and picked it up from where it had been partially hidden by the blankets. He handed it to Merlin without a word.

"Thank you," Merlin said, flipping the glove over, realising why it was in such a peculiar place. His teeth marks were still embedded into the leather. Merlin glanced at it and then looked up at Arthur, meeting a set of very steely blue eyes. Merlin looked down, and put Arthur's right hand into the relevant glove, and then worked on the left. There was only the minute tensing of Arthur's jaw, and the narrowing of his eyes that offered any hint to the pain of the procedure. Merlin privately wondered why Arthur was bothering with his gloves, but he didn't question it. Instead he just got Arthur ready. If the prince wanted his gloves then that was the end of that. Merlin just hoped he wasn't planning anything to prattish.

"Are you two finished?" Barak snarled. "Turn around."

Merlin's eyes widened, but he contained the yelp that rose in his throat as he realised it was Arthur who had pulled him from several sets of grappling hands and turned Merlin around, spinning on his heel at the same time. Merlin gasped as his wrists were grabbed and yanked behind his back, rope roughly wrapped around them, pulling on his arms as they were bound up. Judging by the movement of Arthur's shoulder, as Merlin caught glimpses out of the corner of his eye, he was being put through the same procedure.

Arthur turned to glance at Merlin, who yelped as the cloth bag was pulled over his head and the prince wasn't surprised when seconds later his own vision was impaired the same way. As his arms were taken firmly and he was led from the tent he felt a momentary ripple of panic. He couldn't see Merlin, they could do anything now. Except there was the sound of scuffling from behind him, and a thud and a yip from Merlin. There was more scuffling sounds as Merlin was pulled onto his feet.

"Let's keep them moving."

The walk out of the camp was just as disorientating as their arrival. Although as they left the tent they moved to the west side of the camp, where Arthur had spotted an escape route. He did his best to keep his feet under him as he walked, but it was hard going through the forest, unable to see. And as Arthur had mild trouble, Merlin seemed to be having a terrible time. Even through the sound of his own breathing within the bag, Arthur could hear the scuffing and thuds as Merlin was pulled along behind him. Arthur couldn't help but roll his eyes at Merlin's clumsiness.

But after a while Arthur wondered if there was more to it. Merlin was bad, but there was no way he could be that bad. Behind him, Arthur could hear Merlin's uncoordinated attempts to walk, and the panting and swearing of the two men dealing with him. And hearing him meant that Arthur knew Merlin was behind him.

"Merlin!" he snapped in his exasperated tone. The scuffling lessened in intensity. But after a while, and another thud and loud yelp, Arthur eased himself to a halt. The two men leading him didn't try to drag him forward. Their grip stayed firm but they made no attempt to be rough with him. In fact they were being almost polite.

"Are you all right, Merlin?"

"This would be easier without the bag," Merlin's voice announced. "And it stinks of garlic."

"Shut up," Barak's voice rumbled and there was the sound of a slap, and Merlin yelped again.

"Hey!" Arthur snapped, jerking back as the bag was pulled from his head. He eyed Barak with distain, but the other man just smiled, and moved past him to Merlin, who was sat on the ground. The two men who had let him drop pulled him up and took the bag off his head. Merlin blinked, screwing up his eyes and he looked around, his shoulders relaxing as he spotted Arthur.

He tensed again as Barak moved closer to him. The two men held Merlin tightly in place, and as they felt him tense, the two men holding Arthur intensified their grip. The rest of the accompanying group, eight in all, clustered closer, moving around Arthur. Merlin reared back, but there was nowhere to go as Barak slipped a loop of rope around Merlin's neck, jerking it hard.

"Leave him alone!" Arthur yelled. Barak looked at him and just chuckled, checking the knot on the loop to make sure it hadn't pulled on Merlin's throat. Merlin's eyes were wide, watching nervously as Barak backed up a step and pulled out the length of rope he was holding, the end of which was now around Merlin's neck. Neither he nor Arthur had any idea of what he was about to do next.

Both of them focused on the movement of Barak's hands as he wound the rope around to form another loop. Then taking the length below that he nodded at Merlin's captors, who let him go and Barak yanked Merlin forward. Since he had enough warning, Barak was making quite a display of this moment, Merlin stepped with the pull without mishap. It also reassured him that the rope around his neck was not designed to choke him.

However, Arthur looked like he was about to choke when Barak stepped towards him and slid the noose over his head. Barak tugged the trailing length of rope that remained and slid his fingers into the noose to check the fit. Arthur gave a low angry growl. Merlin grimaced at the look on Arthur's face. If Arthur ever got free, and on a level playing field with Barak, the bandit would not be in for a good time.

Arthur's eyes flickered to Merlin, who felt a shred of embarrassment at the situation, even thought there was no way to really avoid it.

Merlin did realise that this little humiliation was nothing to directly do with him. He was just part of it. Unwillingly participating but it was him that Arthur was now roped to like a slave, or a criminal. Arthur was neither of those things, and he was arrogant enough that this would sting. Barak backed up, holding the end of the rope in his hand, a smirk almost warping his features. No doubt he was going to be the one to have the pleasure of leading them along. By the gleam in his eye, Merlin guessed that it was going to be enjoyed by the large domineering bandit. The man really needed to get out more, Merlin told himself.

"Where's I'lian?" Merlin asked, thinking that the bandit leader wouldn't stand for this. Barak smirked at him, wound up the excess of rope into one hand and said.

"He's busy making sure the meeting area is ready, and making sure the king stands by his word.

"He's the king, of course he does," Arthur snapped, he lurched back against the tug as Barak jerked the rope. He wound it up tighter around his fist.

"I'm sure. Don't worry, I'lian trusts me to get you there safely. We're getting a good sum for you, my pretty prince."

Arthur gave another rumbling growl to indicate his anger. Some of the bandits watched the confrontation warily. Barak's eyes moved around, taking in the current mood. He stepped back away from Arthur and relaxed his grip on the rope, but he pulled lightly to get Arthur to step forward. Merlin followed before the rope between himself and Arthur could pull taut. The rest of the bandits moved into position around them. Merlin watched Arthur twist his wrists in the ropes binding him, in the hope of trying to get free. Looking at the ropes, Merlin guessed unless he intervene they were restrained for the duration.

"Come on, then," Barak said. "We have a way to go. We wouldn't want to make your knights worry by being late."

Merlin sighed, following along where Arthur was led. If Arthur got loose, Barak was a dead man. The situation could get a little messy from there, so Merlin decided for the time being, and for Arthur's own safety, to do nothing except let Barak lead them wherever he wanted them to go.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

The rage was like a white-hot stone in Arthur's chest. He was just glad the heat was not making it's way up to his face. The last thing he wanted to do was blush, in front of this man, who was determined to humiliate him. Trapping him in an arena, and making him fight had not done the trick. He had been trained to fight from the moment he could stand up. His father had been very insistent on that, and Arthur had liked doing things that his father approved of, it seemed to be the only time his father showed him any affection.

He could sense Merlin behind him, seemingly relaxed, or resigned to it. But Merlin was a servant, he knew his place, most of the time. Only now and again did he really forget himself.

Arthur's jaw clenched as Barak tugged again and Arthur tensed to prevent the jerk affecting Merlin, who would undoubtedly stumble. And if Merlin fell Arthur would go down with him, which was probably another of Barak's little torments. Although, Arthur noted, Merlin wasn't having much trouble walking even though he was restrained. It was a sudden major improvement, which again reinforced Arthur's theory that Merlin had been doing it on purpose. He could hear Merlin panting a little but with the rope around his neck Arthur knew it would be hard to turn around and check on him without causing himself, or Merlin to fall.

"Are you all right, Merlin?" Arthur asked.

"Fine," Merlin replied, sounding like he was talking through gritted teeth. He hadn't moved around much over the last two days or so, now he was forced to, it couldn't be doing him much good, but he appeared to be determinedly carrying on. Barak gave another tug, which Arthur braced for, his shoulders throbbing as he resisted. He was going to be sore by the end of this walk.

And it seemed to be an oddly long one. There was no discernable change in direction but Arthur was convinced they were not actually travelling any distance. The large oak tree they were just passing he was fairly certain was a landmark he had seen before, although it was a little hard to tell. They appeared to be passing it on the other side, a greater distance away from it previously and heading in the other direction. He had been trying to spot significant features in the hope of being able to backtrack and find the camp, with a group of knights in tow.

However, it was probably something that I'lian had planned for, which was why they were slowly traversing through the forest, and moving around the same stretch of ground. Whichmeant Arthur was never going to be able to follow it back, or try and work out a direct route through. And as much as he knew Barak was enjoying dragging them around like dogs, Arthur got the feeling he wasn't doing it for this length of time for his own amusement. As the man in question stopped for the second time since they started Arthur halted, Merlin almost bumped into him.

"Water them," Barak ordered the men. The men pulled out waterskins so they could give their prisoners a drink, and take some themselves. Arthur took his second opportunity to turn and check Merlin over.

He didn't look very good, he was pale, his eyes dull and face shining with sweat. One of the men went to Arthur first, still wary of him even though he was restrained, which did something for Arthur's ego, certainly enough for him to say.

"Give some to Merlin first."

The bandit didn't argue, Merlin almost did and then thought better of it, either because he didn't want to argue with Arthur in front of the bandits, or the fact that he suddenly decided he needed a drink. He swallowed several gulps of water greedily, and he licked at the droplets that trickled down his chin. Arthur took several swallows, a little more elegantly than Merlin, and it only took one level glance for the bandit to give Merlin a little more.

The rest stop was only momentary and then started off again. A drink appeared to have perked Merlin up, because he broke the monotony of the walk by moaning.

"Couldn't you have picked a ransom spot that was a bit nearer?"

"No," Barak said. "And have you try and track our camp, I hardly think so."

"Couldn't we have travelled on horseback?" Merlin then asked.

"We can't all be rich nobles who travel on horses."

"I'm a servant, I travel on a horse," Merlin pointed out.

"Aren't you special?" Barak snapped sarcastically.

"Not really," Merlin said at the same time as Arthur announced. "Yes, he is."

"Am I?" Merlin asked.

"You're the personal manservant to the Crown Prince of Camelot," Arthur snarled at him. "Which means you are also in training to be the personal manservant of the King, if you manage to survive that long."

"And if you do," Merlin retorted.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur huffed. Merlin pouted, looking ready to carry on arguing until Barak turned to assess him.

"Gag the 'personal manservant' if he says anything else."

Merlin shut up, Arthur glared at Barak and the walk carried on.


	12. Chapter 12

The knights rode behind Uther as they travelled to the meeting point. Gregory trailed behind on another of Rupert's horses, while leading another horse for Arthur, and Gaius trotted next to him on a placid white pony. None of them were talking. Uther now and again issued instructions, to speed up, slow down, or pause for water. Gregory wished he hadn't been ordered to come, but Uther, on some sudden sadistic whim insisted that Rupert bring him along. Gaius naturally came in case Arthur was injured. Uther didn't mention Merlin but Gaius brought enough equipment to deal with both of them, if it was necessary.

The four knights were looking around nervously, assessing the landscape as they passed through. The wind rippled around them, and the horses snorted on occasion, but there was no chance of any surprise attack. The area they were passing through was open country. Any areas of brush were assessed carefully but the exchange location had clearly been chosen so neither side could mount any sort of surprise ambush.

"I think I can see them," Sir Bors said, being someone in the possession of very good eyesight. It was why Leon had thought to bring him.

"How many of them?" Leon asked, peering at the figures in the distance. He could see what appeared to be a group of people, but could not discern numbers too clearly.

"Ten, no make that a dozen, two of them are kneeling down," Bors said calmly. Uther growled while in contrast Gaius sighed in subtle relief. If one of the people kneeling was Arthur, then the other was likely to be Merlin, which meant he was all right. Or at least alive, which was something.

"Sire, maybe two of us should ride in front," Leon suggested to the king. Uther turned his head to glare at him, Leon didn't know whether to hold the gaze or look away. He managed to maintain eye contact for a moment before turning his head in the direction of the waiting party, and then he glanced back again. "Just for safety."

The king shifted in his saddle, glancing around, and assessing the landscape. The grass rippled in the breeze, the trees nearby lashed about caught in the same power, dried leaves snapping free from the branches and swirling about in the air.

"I led the army into battle here once," he mused. Leon blinked, unsure what to make of that comment. It probably didn't require much of an answer, so he chose not to give one, and Uther continued to talk. "I didn't cower away then, I will not now."

At least they got a reason for the sudden comment, the answer to Leon's suggestion was no. It was, Leon reasoned, sometimes quite easy to forget that Uther had battled to win Camelot. The king now was a little hard to equate with a younger man who would fight battles, and win wars. But that person still appeared to be in there, simmering under the surface.

Uther clearly didn't want to delay the confrontation he kicked his horse forward at a furious pace and the rest of them followed, galloping the last short distance to the waiting group. Uther yanked his horse to a halt, the gelding's feet skidding in the soft ground as he responded to the harsh yank. He gave a disgruntled snort and jerked his head against Uther's hands. Uther didn't notice, he was glaring at the scene in front of him. Arthur looked at him warily, knowing his father wouldn't be pleased with any of it.

The two captives still looked in a very sorry state. They knelt in the long grass, their hands still bound and the rope around their necks. Barak still held the end of the lead in his hand, a smug expression on his face. He stood a little to the left of and a pace or so behind Arthur. Merlin knelt on Arthur's right, also watching the scene carefully. He locked eyes with Gaius, feeling surprise at his guardian being there. Gaius's eyes asked a silent question and Merlin gave a subtle shrug in response. It made his back flare with pain again, it felt hot and cold, and the ache in his shoulders was adding to his misery. Merlin glanced at Arthur.

The prince was pale, but that was probably fury as opposed to pain. His target was most definitely Barak. Merlin could see Arthur's eyes flickering in the bandit's direction as they had waited, watching the party ride towards them. Merlin's eyes had widened as he recognised the leader of the party. A few of the bandits had shifted uncomfortably, looking at each other as they realised the King himself had come to deliver the ransom. Merlin blinked, his mind rolling over the fact that Uther had come, rather than leaving it to someone else. But on the flip side, Arthur was his son, his only child and heir to his throne. That somehow made it very unsurprising.

No one moved for a moment as the party dismounted. Leon stepped forward to take the reins of Uther's horse as he took several steps forward. His eyes strayed to Arthur.

"Arthur."

"Sire," Arthur replied politely to his father's greeting. Merlin lowered his head a fraction, being seen but not heard. They could have been greeting each other in the throne room rather than on a windy moor. Barak jerked the rope, hauling Arthur back, which made him wince but that was the only reaction he gave. He again stopped the ripple effect hitting Merlin. I'lian gave Barak a brief glance before he stepped towards Uther, to meet him halfway. They stood still and assessed each other for a long moment.

"Sir I'lian," Uther greeted him, making the name sound like he was tasting something particularly unpleasant.

"My Lord."

"I hardly think I am your lord," Uther said. I'lian smiled.

"No, no I am not."

"I've brought your payment."

"And also reneged on the terms. I said four people."

"You said four knights," Uther countered.

"And you don't see the others do you."

The glaring match was broken as Arthur huffed and shook his head.

"Something to say, prince?" Barak demanded.

"Yes, your cousin has no room to talk since he spent most of the time calling my servant 'servant' until I corrected him. His name is Merlin. You didn't think that when you allowed him to be beaten, did you? He's not a person to you, so don't think you can try and make yourself better than my father."

Merlin winced as Arthur was cuffed around the head by Barak. Arthur's jaw clenched, he shook his head and looked up at I'lian.

"Correct me, if I'm wrong," Arthur said.

"Maybe you're not, but what would my son be like if I had let him grow up around you," I'lian snapped.

"I think that is an argument for another day. Just take the money and go, I think I'm done with you."

"Arthur," Merlin reproved in a low tone. Arthur's head tilted in his direction. They both stopped arguing as Uther took another step forward. He motioned to Rupert. He was carrying the first load of coins. Without a word he handed over the pouch. Uther threw it at I'lian.

"That's not enough!" Barak snapped.

"Be silent, cousin!" I'lian snarled.

There was a reason this area was chosen. Just on the small rise, as the mild slope crested upwards, was a flat stone, a grave many people speculated about, but no one knew. I'lian emptied out the coins and then counted them back. Then Uther nodded at Sir Bors.

The process went on. Everyone looked bored until the fifth, and last pouch. Gregory hung his head as he took it forward and handed it over, scurrying back and the scuffling made I'lian look up and assess him.

"Gregory?"

"My Lord," Gregory said, and then he glanced at Uther, who glared at him. Gregory looked back, his eyes wide.

"I didn't mean that, I… erm. Sire."

He turned to Uther and bowed, backing out of the scene in confusion. As he turned he tripped on a rock and went sprawling. Rupert didn't dare move but as Gregory struggled up he met his eyes. None of them wanted this situation and if his poor servant had kept his mouth shut he wouldn't be in this mess. As Gregory huddled behind him Rupert refused to move. He couldn't do much but he could protect his servant.

Arthur and Merlin exchanged a long look. Merlin frowned at Arthur who shrugged, as best he could, and shook his head. This fight was best fought another day. Even Merlin carefully kept his mouth shut, not wanted to antagonise the situation further. His goal was to get Arthur out of here, if they paid the money they got Arthur. As simple as that.

"We have the money," I'lian said.

"Then release my son."

The bandits started to cheer, celebrating the victory. Until Arthur was cut loose and thrown forward, he crashed face first into the ground. Merlin yelped. Arthur rolled, winded by the fall, he inhaled heavily wincing as his ribs ached, but he struggled up; and then felt the air rush from him again as he looked towards Merlin.

Barak had grabbed him, hauling Merlin up and pulling him back. Merlin struggled but he was still tied and collared and Barak put his hand down hard onto Merlin's back making him cry out. Merlin's knees buckled and he slammed down onto the ground, gasping for breath.

"How much is your servant worth?" Barak asked.

"What is this?" Uther snarled. Even he looked outraged at the turn of events. Arthur moved, standing in front of Uther, facing the bandits.

I'lian looked from Arthur to Barak and glared. "Cousin, you do not do this. The exchange has been made."

"Yes, we bargained for the prince, not the servant. How much is he worth Prince? What do you think I can get for him?"

"Let him go!" Arthur huffed. Several of the bandits had pulled their swords. Arthur didn't need to look to know that the knights behind him had done exactly the same. He could hear the snorts of the suddenly tense horses, and the light thuds as they stamped their feet. None of them would bolt, all of them had been trained to respond in battle, but their bodies reacted to the sudden tension in their owners.

Barak, in what was, Arthur realised, a very deliberate, provoking gesture, took hold of the rope around Merlin's neck, and pulled. Merlin coughed, and struggled, kicking his legs in an attempt to get his knees under him. He was not getting to his feet in a hurry, but if he didn't want to choke he had to get up. Barak hauled him, slowly, letting Merlin struggle, his breath ragged, hitching in panic. Tears flooded into Merlin's eyes as his back muscles tensed and the fire and ice sensation pulsed through his body.

"Stop that!" Arthur yelled, he stepped forward but paused as the two bandits flanking the scene raised their crossbows. Arthur turned his furious gaze to I'lian, who was watching the scene with an impassivity that stunned Arthur. The man had seemed to at least care, but Arthur's mind rippled with an image of I'lian's face as he had ordered Merlin beaten. It reminded Arthur, quite worryingly, of his father.

Arthur wasn't armed, and he wasn't sure if he could risk rushing in. The bandits had the money, if they killed him now then they didn't lose. But Arthur wasn't about to watch Merlin struggle like that. Merlin's body jerked as he continued to struggle, then miraculously the rope around his neck snapped. Merlin flopped to the ground, landing heavily and probably knocking any hard won air out of his lungs. Arthur almost darted forward again but there were too many people now around Merlin. Four of the bandits, including Barak, were flanking him, watching him as he lay face down on the ground.

Merlin gasped, whimpering on occasion as he dragged as much air into his lungs as possible, his body drawing it in desperately, despite the pain it was causing. His throat was burning just as much as his back, searing with pain every time the air rushed in, but his body was not about to be refused what it needed. Merlin couldn't control his desperate gasps and as he was hauled onto his feet he could hardly take in the scene around him.

Arthur's jaw tensed as Barak hoisted up a now limp, but gasping and feebly, moving Merlin. He held Merlin against him, wrapping an arm around Merlin's waist to pin him against his chest, making Merlin's struggled intensify as the pressure increased on his back, and his other hand forced Merlin's chin up. Merlin's eyes were not entirely focused.

"Merlin?" Arthur said, with a sharp edge to his voice. Merlin blinked.

"How much is he worth? Twenty gold pieces?" Barak asked conversationally. "Bring the money back here, in two days, and I'll give you back what's left of him."

Arthur snarled, from behind him he heard Uther announce, coldly.

"We will not pay a ransom for a mere servant."

He watched Barak's eyes glitter as he heard Uther's announcement. He had refused to pay for Gwen when she had been taken instead of Morgana. There had been a very big row between father and son when he and Merlin had returned with her. Arthur's final piece in the argument had left Uther stunned, and possibly a little confused, since he told Uther he had only done it because Morgana would never have forgiven him. Uther's clear disregard for Gwen had enraged Morgana. Arthur had gone for his own reasons, but he wasn't about to tell Uther that.

It was for his own reasons that he now turned to his father, backing up and moving closer to him, leaning in towards him. He wasn't going to change Uther's mind, but Arthur was not leaving Merlin.

"Father, I cannot leave him with them!"

As he stared at Uther, Arthur tried to ignore Gaius' stricken face. He could see the old physician in the corner of his eye, hovering just close to them. Arthur wondered what had possessed his father to bring Gaius in the first place, but he had greater concerns than that.

"He's a servant, Arthur, and not, by what you say, a very good one. We cannot start bargaining with these people. The only reason this ransom was paid was because you are my only heir."

Arthur blinked, the hint clear. His father baffled him at times, seeming to care about him so much, he was his son, but then sometimes there just seemed to be very cold reasons for that care, and love. It had left Arthur confused, and a little lonely at times. Which was why he was not, under any circumstances, leaving Merlin.

"Father!" Arthur objected, putting a firm hand on his father's arm. Uther glared at him, using his own free hand to grab Arthur and remove himself from his grip, which Arthur allowed and he turned.

The metal glinted in the sun as Arthur casually tossed it into the air. It caught the eye of every person in the vicinity, barring Merlin, who was still struggling for breath, and trying to work through the pain. There was so much he couldn't entirely bring it all into focus. His head did turn as the sound of metal crashing against stone.

I'lian took a step back as the gauntlet hit the stones just by his feet, a little to his right, so it bounced in Barak's direction. Only a little, but it hinted enough. Arthur folded his arms and waited, eyes fixed on the former knight. Whether or not he denied it, I'lian still tried to follow some of the codes, and wouldn't refuse the challenge. Something of the former personality lingered deep down, it surfaced on occasion, fighting through the bitterness of his situation.

"Well?" Arthur asked through the tense silence. I'lian looked up at him, his eyes straying momentarily to Uther, who was now behind his son, fuming so much that Arthur could almost feel the heat radiating from him. Because he as well enforced the strict codes, and would not, could not, intervene now that Arthur had made the challenge, stealing the king's gauntlet to do so.

"If you are not prepared to accept the challenge yourself," Arthur said steadily. "Then release my servant, or choose your champion."


	13. Chapter 13

The hint was obvious. I'lian glanced in Barak's direction, and that was all it needed. The brute of a man took that as an offer. He threw Merlin carelessly towards another bandit, who caught him. Merlin struggled, eyes opening, registering that he needed to be alert, his body fighting through his injuries, because Arthur had put himself in danger. It stirred an instinct in Merlin, which he could never seem to ignore.

"No, Arthur, you can't," Merlin's voice was low, rough sounding, and he winced with the effort of trying to speak. The bruising was already starting to form on his neck, the skin raw and his breath hitching when his throat tightened.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur said calmly. His eyes locked on Barak, who slowly drew his sword.

"Do you accept the challenge, as Sir I'lian's champion?" Arthur asked.

"I do," Barak said, moving his arm and sword, limbering up, as he grinned at Arthur. Arthur reached down to his sword belt and realised what was missing, looking up he saw Barak's grin widen and Arthur's anger burned harder as he realised the bandit was carrying his sword. It had been made for him, balanced for his arm and movement, but there was no way he could reclaim it, instead he turned to where he knew Sir Leon was stood, moving out from the group to try and get to Merlin, should there be a chance.

Arthur jumped as he was intercepted and he looked down at the sword hilt that was offered to him.

Uther had the sword in his arms, the blade held carefully while the hilt was given to Arthur. Arthur looked up at his father and flinched, only a little. The challenge was disapproved of but Arthur had made it and now had to stand up to it. It would not suit for him to have any other sword than the king's. The weapon was all Uther could offer his son now. Arthur reached out and gripped the hilt, feeling it in his hand. He knew his father's sword, he had wielded it, on occasion, so there was some familiarity. It wasn't quite weighted to him but Arthur could manage, Barak was taking a sword that he didn't know, that wouldn't work well for him. He was just trying to insult Arthur by using it.

In the end though, it was nothing more than a sword. Arthur knew that. Instead, he took the king's.

"Thank you, My Lord," Arthur said.

Risking a glance up he knew Uther didn't appreciate the turn of events but he did respect Arthur's decision. Arthur turned, lifting the sword, moving the hilt in his hand to get used to it. Arthur stepped forward slowly, Barak moving to meet him. Without any obvious direction the bandits on one side and the knights on the other backed up, forming a loose ring around the two men, who were slowly starting to circle each other. Arthur looked to Merlin, and then back to Barak.

"Winner takes Merlin," Arthur said.

"Is your servant worth dying over?" Barak asked. Arthur grinned, but there was no joy to it, his eyes turned feral and his entire body tensed.

"You tell me."

"Arthur no, don't, you can't," Merlin gasped, he was trying to raise his head, his eyes staring around. Arthur turned to look, realising Merlin was still suffering.

"Let my…"

He got no further, Barak lunged forward and Arthur had to turn back. He could no longer ask if Gaius could look after Merlin in the mean time, and he wondered if this whole plan was the reason that Galen was not there. I'lian might not want his son there, close to Camelot, but Arthur was starting to think that the indulgence that I'lian had for his son was not blind love. It was something else.

As he blocked a blow from Barak, Arthur wondered if his own father was any different.

Arthur let that thought go, and forgot everything, he was in a fight, and the fight mattered. He was fighting for something he believed in.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Gaius was worried that part of Merlin's throat had been crushed, but his battered, confused ward was still breathing. He watched Merlin struggle to get himself together, his eyes turning to Arthur, to object to what the prince was doing. Gaius couldn't complain about the prince's actions, Arthur seemed to be the only thing protecting Merlin.

He wanted to get out and help his ward. He had promised Hunith that he could look after him, in the middle of Camelot that was not an easy task to charge him with, but Merlin seemed know how hard it was and did his best. Now Gaius thought it would be better if Merlin forgot a little of that and just let it go. He wouldn't though, not in front of Uther.

Two of the bandits now had hold of Merlin, taking an arm each to keep him upright. Merlin took the help, letting them take some of his weight, so he didn't have to worry about supporting himself. He also let his head loll, to keep his face concealed, but his eyes were raised enough that he could see what was happening.

As Arthur and Barak clashed again.

Uther had watched the man go in for the initial strike, when Arthur had started to talk. He wasn't sure what Arthur was trying to say but Arthur didn't look happy about the interruption. He batted Barak off and they both paused to circle again, the initial strikes finished, the fight was on. Uther watched, part of his mind a little detached from the events, so it could assess Arthur's position. He didn't care if this was a duel, properly instigated by a knight of Camelot, if Arthur came close to losing, or moments away from dying, then Uther would intervene. His son was not dying at the hand of a common bandit. His son was not dying before he did. And he wasn't dying over a servant.

The king's eyes followed Arthur's, as the circling put him in a position to assess Merlin. Arthur's eyes swept Merlin up and down, he was still hanging limply but his head was raised, and he was watching. Arthur's head snapped back to his opponent. That split second had assured him that Merlin was fine. He had raised his head, realising Arthur was looking at him, and their eyes had met. Merlin had done that much, because he wanted Arthur to concentrate on what he was doing. Uther decided that Merlin looked quite disapproving of what was going on, even though his life was a stake.

But that was why Arthur and Merlin were now so close. Uther had given Merlin the position as Arthur's manservant because he had saved Arthur's life. It was not something that Uther took lightly, even now. Merlin was willing to risk his life for Arthur. The fact that Arthur reciprocated that feeling was something that needed to be controlled, but Merlin's loyalty Uther didn't question. The boy's intelligence had no baring on that, Uther had realised long ago. But the understanding that existed between prince and servant could not be doubted.

Uther flinched as Arthur backed up. He was holding the sword two handed, buckling under Barak's assault. The bandit mainly had brute strength on his side, there was some skill, he could attack and defend, but he was not to Arthur's standard. Uther watched the battle carefully.

He knew Arthur's skill inside out, and something wasn't right. He was injured on his right side, trying to defend and strengthen the area by adding his left arm. But his left hand wasn't gripping well enough. It was balancing out the problem on the right because Arthur was holding his balance, but he was on lower ground, and losing the advantage. He was defending, very carefully. Uther concluded that Arthur had not seen this man fight before, he was still learning his moves but this man had watched Arthur, and he was using that as well.

Merlin's head rose, just a little, and only one person saw the flash of his eyes.

Gaius tensed as he saw Merlin's reaction to Arthur's oncoming predicament. He took one of Barak's feet out from under him. He unbalanced on the slope and Arthur thrust his sword up, meeting Barak's flailing swing, knocking the sword away and rising up. Arthur danced round him, gaining higher ground and aiming in, catching Barak a deep wound on his shoulder. It hadn't done anything too serious, but the man was now bleeding and in pain. Arthur tried a lower attack but Barak backed up, and Arthur pressed on. The wet grass under his feet didn't seem to bother Arthur, in fact he was very sure footed. Gaius glanced at Merlin, his head was down, but he was watching the movement of both men's feet, eyes fixed at that point. Merlin knew the advantages that Arthur could take, and he was making sure he could use them.

The sound of the swords clashing rang through the air and no one dared to breathe as they watched. They backed off if the two clashing men came too close, but no one intervened. This was not just a simple duel, it was a battle of wills. Arthur defended when he needed to but cut forward when he could. Barak just used as much force as he could against the disadvantaged prince. Arthur was struggling, he was tired, injured, and weakened. Barak thought that gave him an advantage, and Arthur was letting him.

Uther saw that. His son seemed to flag, dramatically on occasion, but when Barak came to close to a severe strike Arthur seemed to rally. It could have just been self-preservation but Uther could see the look in Arthur's eye. He was assessing the best way to win, and his advantage lay in his apparent weakness. When he faltered Barak lunged in, he had done so on a number of occasions and Arthur countered, when he needed to. He was looking for the best way to strike. Uther watched the attack plan and Arthur's eyes never so much as caught a glance of him, but Uther knew the signs. When it came close he tensed a little. It wasn't just Barak's reaction Arthur was gauging, he wanted to see what Uther would do, because Arthur had made him part of the battle plan.

The king eased back a step or two as the battling men took the ground near him. The knights spread further out, angling carefully and Gaius took it as a chance to move nearer to Merlin. Leon was doing the same. Another segment of Arthur's plan, that all of the knights here could see. They all jumped again as Barak lost his footing for the fifth time.

Arthur didn't seem to have the same problem. Gaius was the only one that knew why. It was the only way that Merlin could, subtly, affect the play. Not only did he have to be careful around Uther, Gaius guessed that Merlin was weak, his body not able to draw the energy through. That would mean nothing in the end, Merlin would risk everything to save Arthur, but Arthur could hold his own and Merlin knew he couldn't be careless, there would be other times after this. Arthur had taught him, in some battles you just had to back off, assess what you could win and deal with the areas you could influence.

Merlin would probably rather die than admit it. He had learnt to be a strategic as Arthur. He couldn't rush in every time to affect a daring rescue. There was no point in mollycoddling Arthur, Merlin had to protect himself as well, otherwise who would look after Arthur in the future. Merlin was doing what was needed, because Arthur worked out Barak's unsteadiness into his battle plan. He couldn't understand why the bandit couldn't keep his feet under him, but he had noted the weakness.

In the end Arthur put it down to the man having worn out boots. They looked a little ragged as far as he could see. So it made sense. It was the only explanation.

Arthur went down, blocking a strike to his shoulder and he let his arms buckle under the pressure, dropping to his side. Uther ran forward, Barak glanced up and smirked, lunging down for a final strike into Arthur's torso, putting his weight behind it to make sure it passed through the chain mail into his body.

Barak committed himself to the strike and Arthur rolled, letting the sword slam into the soft ground by his side, and he responded with his own strike shoving his sword into Barak's side, catching him just under his ribs, easing his way up. He wasn't going to be able to hit the heart, the angle was wrong, but he would take a lung, and he had probably hit something else on the way up. Something that would bleed. Barak gasped for breath, pitching over and pulling Arthur with him as he fell. As he got upright Arthur let go of the sword, letting Barak land on his side. The bandit looked up at him, his eyes wide and his hands scrabbling as the sword as if he could hardly comprehend its presence.

As he tried to grip the blade Arthur retook hold of the hilt yanking the sword out of Barak. Slowly Arthur knelt down and wiped the blade on the edge of Barak's shirt. The man grappled at him with both hands and Arthur winced on occasion as he found a sort spot on him, but there was no power in the grip, Barak was dying. No one could hear what Arthur said to him, but he waited until Barak's last breath left him before slowly standing up and looking at I'lian.

The former knight was looking back with an unreadable expression.

"I think our business here is concluded," Arthur announced.

I'lian was torn between staring at Arthur and at the body of his cousin. Arthur left him to that and stepped away from Barak going towards his father. He carefully handed the sword back to him.

"Thank you, Sire," Arthur said. Then he turned to look at the two bandit's holding Merlin.

The glare was all it took; they practically threw him at Leon and Gaius, who were both advancing. Leon stepped forward to take Merlin's weight and he wrapped his arms around him. As his hands touched Merlin's back, Merlin groaned and his knees buckled. Leon reduced the tightness of his grip and he eased Merlin down into a sitting position, his legs tucked up under him.

"Physician!" Uther snapped. Gaius turned away from Merlin. Uther turned back to Arthur. "You are injured."

"I've sustained a gash to my hip, two broken fingers on my left hand and strained the tendons on my right side," Arthur said. He walked towards Gaius as he spoke, passing him and going to Leon, who had pulled a knife to try and reach round to cut the ropes from Merlin's wrists. Arthur took the knife, severed the rope and started to pull at Merlin's shirt. Merlin gave a little groan, objecting to that.

"Deal with Merlin first," Arthur said to Gaius. "He's hurt worse."

Arthur knelt down and took Merlin's weight from Leon, drawing him close to let Merlin rest against him, and Merlin's head dropped onto his shoulder, while Arthur lifted the shirt to reveal the damage that had been inflicted on Merlin. Arthur looked up at Gaius, his eyes angry and regretful.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't stop them."


	14. Chapter 14

"It wasn't your fault," Merlin said, sounding a little groggy as he spoke.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur snapped. He turned his head to watch the bandits. Leon had stood up to flank them and Uther and the other knights were doing the same, closing in on the vulnerable pair. Arthur knew he should probably get up but now he was down holding Merlin seemed like the perfect excuse to hide the weakness he was feeling. He blinked little more than he ought to, trying to keep the world in focus. Gaius watched him and indicated to Gregory.

"Bring some water."

The servant hurried to do his bidding, putting it into Arthur's free hand and Gaius nodded at him, not commenting on the slight tremor of Arthur's muscles as he held the flask.

"It is for you Sire, but I would like to get some into Merlin."

"I'm fine, give me a minute," Merlin said, his voice still low, struggling to get past his throat. Arthur took several swallows for the sake of propriety before he offered it to Merlin. Merlin turned his head away.

"I feel sick."

Arthur handed the flask to his father. Uther nodded at him and Merlin found his head turned and tilted back. Uther's hand gripped his chin and water was carefully dribbled into his mouth. As he swallowed Uther increased the angle.

"Just drink it, Merlin."

Merlin did. He wasn't being given a great deal of choice. As he started to gag Uther stopped. Merlin's breath hitched a couple of times but the swirling of his stomach calmed as the water settled.

"Merlin can't ride, not the way he is," Arthur said.

"I'm fine," Merlin snapped. "I can manage."

"Merlin, you are not stable enough to ride behind someone and seating you in front would mean too much pressure on your back. You are not fit to ride."

"So you say."

"Yes, I do, Merlin, I do say."

Merlin then proved Arthur's point as he passed out. Arthur felt the weight press harder against him as Merlin went limp.

"Merlin?"

"He's just fainted Sire," Gaius said, trying not to sound anxious.

"We can't stay here," Uther said, looking around. "Put him over a horse, we just need to get them to the woods."

"They are not going to bother us now, father," Arthur said.

There were glances in the direction of the bandits, I'lian supervising the removal of his cousin's body. He didn't look all that upset by events. Without Barak in his way I'lian could do what he liked with the bandits. Had he wanted that, Arthur wondered to himself.

"We are safer off away from here," Uther said.

"I need a horse then. Gregory!"

At Arthur's command Gregory brought the large bay mare that he had been leading.

"We brought Alyssa for you My Lord. She's more than capable."

She was, Arthur thought. His oldest mare was a demon in battle, unfaltering in the joust and even liked Merlin. She took his incompetence in her stride, nipping and nudging him when he wasn't quite where she wanted him.

Arthur nodded at him and Gregory brought the horse close enough, without risking the two men on the ground under her feet. Arthur slowly started to move Merlin, lifting him off the ground with Leon's help.

Gaius stepped forward to supervise Merlin's transition as he was placed over the horse's withers. Alyssa snorted and stamped as she felt the weight, turning her head to sniff at what had been put there. Smelling Merlin she snorted again and turned back.

"Are you well enough to ride, My Lord," Gaius asked. Arthur took a deep breath, getting up was going to prove a little painful. Uther eased everyone out of the way and as Arthur took the reins and gripped the saddle, Uther hoisted Arthur up onto the mare's back. The king strained a little, but he managed to mount an armour clad Arthur with what appeared to be a minimal effort. It surprised even Arthur. The expression on his son's face made Uther smirk, and he patted Arthur's nearest leg.

The rest of them waited for Uther to mount his own horse before the rest of them followed suit. Arthur paused to turn and look in I'lian's direction again. The bandits were subdued now, they had the money but had also lost one of their own. It was through Barak's own folly that he had been killed. I'lian turned to glare at him, his eyes drifting down to Merlin's pliant form over Arthur's horse. Then he met Arthur's gaze again. The rest of the bandits had gone, carrying the body of their dead comrade. Then I'lian turned away, following the rest of his men. Arthur turned his horse, moving carefully as he walked Alyssa forward.

Arthur had to be careful. He didn't want to disturb Merlin, nor himself. As Alyssa negotiated the uneven ground she jolted him once or twice, making Arthur wince. He gritted his teeth as the pain rippled up his side, and he swayed in the saddle as his head started to swim. It was going to be a long ride back to Camelot. Arthur took a deep breath and pressed on, pausing as he felt Merlin's weight shift, and the youth tensed, raising his head.

"What happened? Why am I…?" Merlin paused, assessing his position.

"You fainted, it seemed the easiest way to move you," Arthur said.

"Well, I'm all right now, let me up."

"No, Merlin, let's just get out of sight and into the woods."

"Oh, 'cos that will be safer," Merlin snapped back at him. Gaius interrupted the bickering before they could get into full flow.

"There are soldiers waiting there, and we have a cart. I've got plenty of medical supplies. Once we get there you can both rest in the vehicle."

Uther glanced at Arthur, who nodded, only by a small degree but Arthur made it clear enough to his father that he was going to have to concede. The last few days had been stressful, both mentally and physically. Arthur knew when to admit the weakness.

"I'm fine," Merlin continued to protest, kicking his legs a little. "This is undignified."

"Oh, because you are the epitome of elegance the rest of the time," Arthur sniped.

"What would you know, crashing about in your armour," Merlin asked Arthur.

"I do not crash about."

Uther raised his eyebrows, and glanced around the rest of the group. Gaius was staring at Merlin with some disapproval, and concern. The knights in the group, by the looks on their faces, appeared to be entirely used to hearing Arthur and Merlin carry on like this.

"We haven't got far to go," Uther announced, scanning the area, glancing behind. Sir Bors and Sir Rupert were bringing up the rear, checking behind them as they travelled. The open ground was clear of any threats, and they were nearly to the tree line. Leon rode ahead with Oric. Uther was on Arthur's right and Gaius on his left, Gregory trotting just behind them.

"As soon as we are concealed Oric can ride forward to call the rest of the men, My Lord," Leon said to Uther. "The scouts should be watching, so they may do so anyway."

"Very well, I wish to waste no time."

"I can probably treat Arthur in the cart, while we're moving, Sire," Gaius said. Uther nodded.

"I did receive some treatment and I washed Merlin's back, and used some ointment," Arthur informed Gaius. Merlin's clothing had ridden up his back, thanks to his unfortunate position. Arthur didn't touch the damaged skin but he moved the shirt a little to reveal more of Merlin's back, wincing as he stared at the red raw welts. Merlin gave a huff of protest and attempted to keep his shirt from falling over his head.

"It seems to be fine, Sire," Gaius said. "But it wouldn't hurt to ensure it stays clean."

"I am fine, I don't need treating," Merlin objected.

"It might be a wise idea to perhaps strap him down, to prevent him applying pressure to the wounds," Uther said, watching the interaction. All he could currently see of Merlin was his backside and legs, but he had glimpsed the wounds briefly. Even the king had to privately admit it was brutal, and possibly, knowing the way that his son acted towards his servant, more a lesson for Arthur than any need to discipline Merlin.

As Uther spoke, Merlin went still, and quiet. He'd almost forgotten the presence of the king. Eventually Merlin broke the silence.

"I'll be good," he said, his voice taking on just the mildest strain.

"I hardly think that will be necessary father," Arthur said.

"Very well," Uther said. Proving his own thoughts, that it did not take any severe discipline to pull Merlin back into line and that Arthur never approved of it anyway.

That ended the conversation, as the group rode slowly into the trees, to be greeted by a soldier waiting for them. A little further down the path the cart was waiting. Five soldiers in position surrounding it. Uther ordered them to scout. They were all of the opinion that the bandits would not risk attacking them but Uther wasn't taking any chances.

Arthur pulled Alyssa to a halt and waited for two of the knights to carefully help Merlin down. Then Arthur, just as carefully, dismounted. He clung to the saddle as the world spun round him, obscenely fast. Then he felt someone take his arm.

"Sire," Leon said politely.

Arthur let him lead him to the cart and Arthur clambered in. There was a cluster of covers and a mattress set up for him. The prince felt a little ashamed at needing it, so he turned to Leon.

"Merlin had better take that."

"Sire, we can find some blankets for Merlin," Leon said.

Arthur just felt too tired to argue further, he let Leon put him on the bed and then as Merlin was helped in Leon offered Gaius his own bedroll, and so did Gregory. Merlin looked like he didn't want to complain either, although he protested a little feebly. In the end, however, he flopped face down on the proffered bedding.

"Do you need any help Gaius?" Gregory asked, carefully clambering in.

"Help Merlin undress, I'll look after the prince."

Arthur grunted through gritted teeth as he pulled his glove off his left hand. The stiff leather had given him some support, but the broken fingers were swollen and bruised, and looked worse than before. Arthur gritted his teeth and distracted himself from the pain by watching Gregory help Merlin. The servant adopted the simple strategy of easing Merlin's shirt and jacket up and then as Merlin lifted his arms Gregory just pulled the whole lot clear, with Merlin's head disappearing into the material as Gregory pulled to try and free him. Arthur gave a huff of laughter and as Merlin's head appeared he glared up at the prince. Gregory carried on pulling the material down Merlin's outstretched arms.

"What's so funny?"

"Ah!" Arthur gasped, tensed as Gaius suddenly reset his fingers. It made Arthur's eyes water.

"Gregory, I need that wooden splint."

Without a word he handed it over, and Gaius started to bind the broken fingers up.

"You removed the splint?" Gaius said.

"Yes, once, another time it fell off."

"This one has to stay on. The swelling around it will help hold the bone in place. It has to have time to heal. Gregory, just use water to bath those wounds and then apply that ointment. Merlin, keep still."

"Sorry," Merlin said, ceasing wriggling to look at what Gaius was doing.

Gregory again had to pause his treatment of Merlin to help Gaius get Arthur out of his armour and chain mail. Arthur gave a gasp of relief as it was removed and Arthur removed his shirt, wincing as he lifted his arms to pull it clear. At Gaius' order to lay back Arthur complied without hesitation, closing his eyes as he relaxed.

"Have you any other injuries Sire?" Gaius asked.

"A cut to my hip," Arthur said, loosening his trousers and moving them to reveal the damage. Gaius peered at it, checking the flesh around the gash for infection.

"This has been well treated. Merlin did you do this?"

"No, he didn't," Arthur murmured, sounding half asleep. "I'lian's son Galen did."

Gaius raised his eyebrows and said nothing. Arthur opened one eye and then closed it again.

"He's done a good job," Gaius eventually said.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

The cart moved along at a slow steady pace. Uther had no desire to stop, and the knights pushed themselves to try and stay alert, they would have to pause eventually, but it would be close enough to Camelot for Uther to feel it was safe enough. Uther didn't doubt that Sir I'lian would leave the situation alone. There were rules surrounding this type of transaction. Unspoken rules, but they were usually followed. And it didn't seem to Uther that I'lian would mourn the passing of his cousin.

When they did eventually stop Arthur and Merlin didn't notice. They were both sleeping deeply, and stayed so as the camp was quickly set up. Uther made his way across the camp to the cart, opening the back to clamber in. He moved lightly, so Arthur wouldn't stir. The light from the torches outside pushed through the fabric of the carts cover to allow him to see the two people inside.

Arthur lay on his back, head tilted to one side, towards Merlin, who was sprawled face down, one arm tucked under his head the other flung out across the space towards Arthur. In returned, Arthur's hand was also out, resting gently on Merlin's forearm, holding him with a light grip.

Uther felt his jaw tense as he looked at them, Arthur's concern towards Merlin obvious. He resisted the urge to go in a separate them. It would no doubt wake them both up, when both of them needed to get some rest. Arthur's ribs were now bound up, the wound on his hip cleaned again, and his fingers reset. Merlin's back was exposed, the vicious welts on show. Quite often Uther had to resist the urge to send the impudent boy who was his son's manservant for a flogging, now and again only biting his tongue at the last minute.

As annoying as Merlin was, he was also loyal and he cared about Arthur. He had saved his life.

"Sire?" Gaius' voice snapped him out of his contemplation. Uther turned and glanced down at the physician, who was looking at Merlin. Very carefully Uther climbed back out of the cart.

"Arthur will be fine, once he's rested."

Uther nodded.

"And Merlin?" it was part question, part reassurance. Gaius winced.

"He may unfortunately be scarred. The whip used was brutal, and I can only presume Barak was the one who did it."

"That would explain Arthur's reaction," Uther said. "He is rather overprotective of him."

"You make that sound like a bad thing, My Lord."

"I know you are fond of the boy, but Arthur should not be risking himself for one person."

Gaius looked at Uther steadily. The pause between them heavy with something that Uther couldn't entirely define.

"With respect Sire, there is only one person that Arthur risks himself for, and you allow it."

Uther blinked, glancing back into the cart to look at Arthur, who, from the time he was born had been trained and taught to be a prince, and to be a king. It was what Uther wanted, and needed, it was important for the good of the kingdom. Gaius watched Uther for a moment and then turned away.

"Goodnight, My Lord."


	15. Chapter 15

Arthur sat as his desk working on some papers while Merlin moved slowly around the room, tidying up. Now and again Arthur glanced up at him to assess what Merlin was doing. Occasionally he winced, the skin on his back felt tight where the wounds were healing, but two weeks on from their rescue Merlin had to admit he felt much better.

Still Arthur didn't want Merlin doing too much, even though his servant was continually insisting he was fine. Arthur's own condition meant that Merlin was not having to work as hard as usual. The prince wasn't training, or hunting, Gaius had ordered him to rest for at least a month, which was probably longer than it needed but Arthur hadn't risked protesting. Arthur could sense that it wasn't just for him that Gaius was suggesting that length of convalescence time. Arthur didn't want Merlin overdoing it, and it was a way to control him.

It also meant that Arthur had time to do a little research into something that had been on his mind since the kidnapping.

"Where are you going?" Arthur said, not looking up as Merlin's footsteps trailed to the door. They stopped and Arthur looked up as Merlin turned around.

"To muck out the horses."

Arthur put his papers down, glared at Merlin. "I thought Gregory was doing that."

"He is, he was," Merlin said. "I said I would do it today."

"And you're up to heavy lifting are you?" Arthur asked politely.

"Of course I am! I'm fine," Merlin informed him loftily.

"Okay then, you can take the washing while you go," Arthur said, waving at the basket, which Gwen would more than likely pick up later on, as she had also been helping out, so Merlin wasn't stuck doing too much. It wasn't so much the actual washing he couldn't manage, it was the lifting the basket and carrying it. Anything that asked too much of his back caused him pain as the wounds pulled, sometimes bleeding again. There was no doubt that several of them would scar, leaving Merlin, and Arthur, with a permanent reminder of what had happened.

Merlin's false brightness faded a little, a sullen glimmer coming into his eyes when he realised Arthur wasn't going to let him get away with it. The prince had gone from complaining he was useless and didn't do his job properly, to make sure Merlin didn't do anything. Merlin hadn't minded the lighter duties to begin with, but this was getting ridiculous.

"Go on," Arthur said.

"Fine!"

Merlin stalked over to the washing basket, reached down and grabbed the handles with both hands and lifted, restraining his gasp as the stripes across his shoulders burned. Merlin hoisted himself upright and glared at Arthur.

"See?" Merlin snapped. Arthur stared at him for a long moment and then inclined his head.

"Put it down, Merlin."

Merlin looked mulish but did as he was told, dropping the basket, flinching as it landed on his feet. He shuffled backwards to extract his toes from under it.

"Just leave it," Arthur said.

"I can do my own job," Merlin snapped.

"Yes, I know, and normally I'd be ecstatic at your enthusiasm."

Merlin pulled a face, frowning as Arthur carefully started to melt the wax he needed to apply his royal seal to the bottom of the parchment.

"But I need you to do something else. I won't get away with leaving the castle, but you can."

"What for?" Merlin said, frowning. Arthur pressed his seal into the wax and then after checking it turned the paper towards Merlin. Merlin leant over and peered at it, reading what Arthur had written, the final draft of the letter he had been working on over the last two days. Merlin chewed his lower lip as he read Arthur's words, and then he looked up at him. Arthur was eyeing him carefully, and with just a hint of apprehension.

"Are you serious?"

"Very," Arthur said. "I think it's the right thing to do."

"How are you going to do it?" Merlin asked and then his eyes widened. "You're kidding!"

"They probably won't accept it from anyone else, I'm not going to make you go alone Merlin."

"Glad to hear it," Merlin said. "I take it your father doesn't know about this?"

"No, and you're not telling him."

"If I did I wouldn't have to go."

"Merlin!"

And with that Merlin found himself on a horse, riding out of Camelot with the letters Arthur had written carried carefully with him.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

The patrol group unsurprisingly consisted of Leon, Rupert, Bors and Oric, and a troop of soldiers. They had been ordered to cover the area where the exchange had taken place. Camelot's patrols had been covering that area ever since Arthur and Merlin had been returned. Arthur had chosen the patrol group specifically with people he trusted to take care of Merlin.

In deference to Merlin's presence the group moved at a slow pace, until they reached their destination. Merlin slowly dismounted and looked around. Leon followed suit and the soldiers fanned out. Merlin felt a little reassured by their presence as he stepped forward, pausing as he looked down at the patch of grass he had almost stepped on.

It was stained brown, with Barak's blood. He was stood on the spot where Arthur had killed him, and Merlin frightened himself by feeling nothing. He didn't even feel angry, or relieved, he just felt nothing at the loss of Barak's life. Arthur felt something, he had been angry, now he felt justified. Barak had been hurting Merlin, threatening him, and Arthur as his master had felt obliged to do something about that. And he had. It probably didn't pull on Arthur's conscience. Barak knew what he was getting into when he had taken the challenge.

What worried Merlin was it didn't bother him either, but not for those reasons. He couldn't find a reason. Most of the time he could understand people's actions, even the people he acted against, when the situation required. Merlin could fathom why people tried to kill Uther, or hurt him by attacking Arthur. Arthur was the biggest target that Uther had, he was heir to the throne of Camelot. That wasn't the reason that Merlin protected him. He protected Arthur because he was… Arthur… that annoying, egotistical prat who also had a sense of honour and duty, and Merlin had the feeling that when he found out Merlin's secret he wouldn't react as his father would. He would know Merlin too well for that, that he meant no harm to Camelot and it's future king. Still that moment wasn't going to happen just yet, so Merlin felt a little vulnerable stood there. He shuffled away, moving around the stained grass, almost to the spot where he had been stood while Arthur fought for his life. If Barak had taken him that day, Merlin knew he was never coming back.

"Merlin," Leon said gently.

Merlin turned and looked up. The bandits had been keeping an eye on the area, four of them appeared in the distance, moving from the cover towards them. Leon looked at the others with him and nodded as he drew his sword. The rest of them followed suit, the knights moving to flank Merlin, and the soldiers stepped up around them. It didn't ease Merlin's worry, especially as he saw I'lian was in the group. Then he felt a flicker of nerves as he realised Galen was also with him.

None of the members of the patrol moved as the bandits headed towards them. Looking into the distance Merlin was certain that he could see others from the outlaws moving as subtly as they could over the moors.

"Now what?" Leon asked Merlin, who shrugged. Instead he took a breath as I'lian paused a short distance away from them, Galen lingering behind him. I'lian turned his impassive gaze to Merlin.

"Merlin," I'lian greeted him with a curt nod.

"Sir I'lian."

I'lian raised his eyebrows at the formal address that had just a touch of sarcasm to it. Merlin watched his reaction.

"I never expected to see you again."

"Nor I you to be honest," Merlin said.

"We've seen the patrols passing here," I'lian said. "Although, they've never ventured this close before."

"You're watching it as well."

"There's always a chance that you might try and backtrack to find our camp, although I doubt that's your intention today. Arthur wouldn't put you at risk, would he?"

Merlin looked around, at the patrol whose only purpose today was looking after him. Arthur could have sent him with just one person, but Merlin found the larger group reassuring, they could take on the bandits if the situation came to that, and it was easier to use magic with a group of people. During a fight there was always more going on, more distractions and less people noticed him. Only Arthur seemed to have any realisation of Merlin's presence during those moments.

"No, probably not," Merlin said.

"So what are you doing here?" I'lian asked. Merlin turned and went to his horse, reaching into the leather bag that was attached to the saddle, pulling out the carefully rolled parchments bound in a red ribbon. Arthur hadn't sealed them up with wax, guessing that I'lian would want to read them. Instead Arthur had put his seal at the bottom of each sheet, so no one would be able to argue with their authenticity.

But what I'lian would make of them was something else entirely. Merlin took a few tentative steps forward towards I'lian and held out the neatly bound up scrolls, holding them out at arms length, waiting for I'lian to take them.

"Arthur just said to leave them, I guess he knew you'd be watching," Merlin said. He wondered, since this was the first time any group had come close to the fateful location, if a watching I'lian had seen him within the group, and that was why he had chosen to move closer this time. Again it was like some kind of unspoken agreement between kidnappers and hostages. It baffled Merlin, the odd etiquettes that people thought up. Although since the whole incident he had learnt that kidnapping rich nobles was quite big business. Some people took the price demanded for them very seriously. Arthur however hadn't really seen it like that, and neither had these bandits, when they realised they had the Prince. It also seemed to have been an ideal time to vent out some very built up frustrations.

At that idle thought Merlin's back started to itch.

I'lian watched him carefully for a moment before stepping forward to take the rolled up parchments. Seeing the flicker on the former knights face Merlin guessed he was tempted to just destroy them without seeing their contents. Knowing what the contents were, Merlin didn't want to let that happen.

"It's more for Galen than you," Merlin said, with what appeared to be just the right tone. I'lian glowered at him and pulled the ribbon clear, letting it drift to the ground, tangling into the long grass at the bandit's feet. It was rescued by Galen, who had stepped forward. He picked it up and carefully smoothed the silky material, winding it around his left hand as he waited. His eyes were staring at the group, taking in the knights and soldiers that were flanking Merlin. Leon had moved closer to Merlin's right, Sir Rupert moving in on the left. The bandits shifted nervously and the tension rippled on the breeze around them while I'lian read the parchment, a frown on his face. Then he held up one sheet.

"What is this?"

"Your patent," Merlin said. "Although in the case of that one, it's technically Galen's. He is the son of a knight."

"Are you serious?"

"It's got Arthur's seal on the bottom, it's perfectly serious."

I'lian glared at Merlin, trying to see if there was any shred of dishonesty to what Merlin was saying. During that pause Galen stepped forward and pulled one of the sheets clear from his father's grip. His eyes scanned the page, a light frown forming on his face before he looked up, staring at Merlin in shock.

"What is this?"

"Recommendation letters to King Olaf's court physician. He's looking for an apprentice, Olaf sent a message to Uther asking if he knew of anyone. Uther passed it onto Gaius, and Arthur, to deal with. Arthur has, and Gaius has backed him up."

"But he doesn't know anything about me."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "He's seen how you treated Arthur's wounds, and mine. Gaius couldn't find fault with any of it when he followed up the treatment."

There was more Merlin could have said. Gaius had known Galen's mother, so he knew Galen's teacher, and had trusted her. Even Merlin knew enough to know that Galen was more than competent, and probably wouldn't need that much training.

"But I can't go, I'm an outlaw."

"No, **you're** not," Merlin said. Galen looked down at the letter again, reading it over intensely, looking for anything that could be wrong with it. There wasn't anything.

"What happens if Uther hears of it?" I'lian asked.

"He probably won't. Arthur has left enough hints in the wording of his letter without actually saying anything directly. He and Olaf have a kind of understanding of each other. He doesn't have a great deal of contact with Camelot anyway."

"But…" Galen paused and took the other letter from his father, who passed it over with great reluctance. "Why would Arthur do that?"

I'lian seemed to want to know the same thing, and Merlin had no intention of shirking around that.

"I think Arthur is of the opinion that you shouldn't have to stay here. None of what happened was your fault," Merlin said. I'lian glared at him.

"How dare you!"

Merlin felt Leon tense, but he hid it well enough. I'lian took a step forward, but still stayed far enough back so the tension didn't rise further.

"Well, it's not is it?" Merlin added. "Why should he have to pay the price? Do you really want him to have to live as a bandit for the rest of his life? There is no reason why he should be affected by it."

Even as he said it Merlin knew it wasn't as simple as that. Innocent people were affected by the decisions that other people made. In this case I'lian was affected by Uther, the consequences of which had rolled to Galen. Arthur probably understood it better than most. In a way, Arthur couldn't miss his mother, he had never known her, but the consequences of what happened to her had shaped his entire life. He lived in a kingdom that feared and despised magic, because of Uther.

In the end Merlin would never admit the slowly stirring thought in him to anyone but Arthur, when the time was right. But he could see Uther's point, he could feel Uther's point, as a creature of magic Merlin understood the hold it could have over someone, and what it might do. The thought had processed over time, while he was in Camelot. He knew concealing the truth about himself from Arthur was, for now, the right thing to do.

And when it came to that revelation Merlin trusted Arthur to do the right thing.

"Are you serious? I'd become the King's physician?" Galen asked.

"In time," Merlin said.

"We can't be bribed!" I'lian snarled. Merlin blinked and then shrugged.

"If that's the way you feel," he said, backing up. "I've done what was asked of me."

Merlin turned, he wanted away from this place. All he wanted to do was get back to Camelot. He hadn't even wanted to come, but he had done it, because it was what Arthur wanted. It could simply be that Arthur was trying to ease his own conscience, having seen what Uther had caused, knowing that I'lian had left to save his wife, and young son. Merlin didn't think it was a simple at that, nothing ever was.

He risked one glance back, at least seeing that Galen had possession of all the parchments and was carefully binding them back up again. Hopefully, if the choice was his, he would make the right decision.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

The patrol made camp. They were not going to make it back to Camelot within the day. Merlin couldn't tolerate riding that distance. Instead they had hunted through the forest and Leon had taken down a deer. Merlin had scavenged some greens and herbs to go with it to make a fairly reasonable stew.

The soldiers fanned out, some sleeping, some taking the watch. Merlin sat by the camp fire, prodding it with a stick, staring into the flames. Leon sat next to him, taking his duty to look after Merlin a little too seriously. Merlin hadn't even been able to collect firewood without someone in tow.

"I don't get it," Leon eventually said, breaking the peaceful silence between them.

"What?" Merlin asked sounding distracted.

"Why Arthur would do that?"

"He's Uther's conscience," Merlin said without thinking.

"What?" Leon asked, bringing Merlin back to total reality. He turned to look at the knight, who was regarding him with mild shock. Merlin guessed that he had kicked at a boundary that he now shouldn't cross. His bickering with and insults to Arthur were all very well, but Uther was another matter entirely.

"Well, he has a better perspective on some things and he's right, what happened wasn't Galen's fault, but he's the one now suffering for it. Arthur wants to put things right."

"They're bandits, outlaws, how do they understand that?"

Merlin shrugged, and decided he was tired, and he didn't want to have this conversation. He reached for his bedroll to find somewhere to lay it out by the fire. Before he did so, he turned to Leon.

"I think they might understand it better than anyone."


	16. Chapter 16

**Last chapter, just a round off for the two boys. **

"Oh, make an effort Merlin!" Arthur snapped as Merlin lost control of his sword for the third time. Merlin huffed and went to retrieve his sword, shifting it in his grip and looking mulish as he positioned himself again.

"Can't you do this with one of the knights?"

"They do actually have a lot to do, Merlin," Arthur said swinging at him. Merlin backed up, bringing the sword up to clash with Arthur's. He wobbled a little as Arthur applied pressure.

"And I don't!" Merlin snapped, slipping over, losing his sword and getting jabbed in the neck by Arthur's for his trouble. Merlin lay still and glared up at Arthur. "Ow!"

"Oh, it's only a little nick."

"My back also still hurts a bit, one of the wounds is infected."

Arthur's reaction on instantaneous.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Arthur demanded plunging the tip of his sword into the ground and reaching down to pull Merlin up onto his feet. Merlin struggled, unsuccessfully, to get away from Arthur as he yanked up Merlin's jacket and then dragged the material of his shirt from his belt to assess the damage.

"For heavens sake, Arthur, I'm fine!"

There was only one small section of the wounds that had infected a little. Gaius was treating it, and had no serious concerns. It would heal eventually, and Merlin hadn't thought it was worth mentioning to Arthur. Now he regretted telling him. He didn't need to be manhandled like this. Merlin only stopped struggling as he felt Arthur's fingertips trace over some of the scars. Gaius had warned him, with some regret, that he would probably be marked for life.

"Arthur?" Merlin said, after the pause, and the touch, started to get disturbing. The prince seemed to come back to himself and his hand withdrew. He straightened Merlin up, pulling his clothes down. Merlin took over, unfastening his belt so he could pull his shirt down properly and get himself into some sort of order. It also gave him something to concentrate on instead of Arthur's intense gaze.

"I think that's enough for today. I'm sure I can get Leon to train with me tomorrow."

Merlin huffed inwardly and gathered up his own and Arthur's swords to dump them in the rack by the training field. Arthur sat down on the grass and Merlin, after grabbing the water skin, settled next to him, handing Arthur the water. He took it and swigged deeply before passing it to Merlin, who took a gulp.

"Thanks," Merlin said, handing it back again. "It's nice to get back to normal."

"I suppose," Arthur mused. "Why didn't you tell me your back was still sore?"

"It's only one little bit, and Gaius said it will be fine."

"You're going to be scarred though."

Merlin shrugged. "It's on my back, I have to make a bit of an effort to see it."

"I don't need to see it, I know it's there," Arthur said quietly.

"It wasn't your fault. How many times am I going to have to say that before it goes through your thick skull?"

"It feels like my fault. I was meant to be protecting you."

"On the face of it, I don't think any agreement you made with I'lian would have stopped it. Besides I can look after myself you know."

Arthur turned his head a fraction, giving Merlin a sidelong look. "Of course you can Merlin."

In response Merlin shoved Arthur on the shoulder. Arthur rocked with it then shoved Merlin back, sending him sprawling.

"See, I think that proves the point."

"It proves that you're a prat," Merlin informed him, sitting back up again, brushing his hands together to remove the dampness. Arthur snorted a brief laugh and they sat there in silence for a moment, looking around at the training area and the fields beyond. In the distance people were moving about, and a cluster of knights on horseback came into view, returning from a patrol. Arthur looked at them longingly, he hadn't been out for nearly a month, and he was starting to get twitchy. Merlin was amazed he had tolerated it for a long as he had, but it was because he wanted to make sure Merlin was fit and well.

Merlin stared at the knights as they rode towards the castle, he chewed on his lower lip for a moment before saying.

"Do you think Galen will go to Olaf?"

Arthur was silent for a moment longer, watching the returning patrol, before he answered.

"I hope so."

"What if it gets back to your father?"

"It shouldn't, at least not until enough time has passed, and I can take responsibility for it all. Olaf will take all the hints I left in the letter. Most of them were pretty obvious and he doesn't… he isn't…."

"Blinkered?"

"Merlin!"

"It seemed an appropriate word. All things considered, you don't think that drowning a small child is right. You wouldn't be trying to make it better if you did."

"I'm not trying to make it better. That has no baring on any of my decisions."

"Doesn't it."

"I can't afford to have that emotion. I'm going to be king one day and will have to judge on these people."

"How can you not have emotion dealing with that? You can't assume someone needs to die because their mother knows magic."

"I know, Merlin."

"You can't not have emotion! That is the last thing you should do. You need that, to make yourself think, if could be your child, your friend,… you know, how would people see you?"

"All right, Merlin,

Merlin shut up. He took a deep breath and released it.

"I'm just saying. It's not bad to have emotions."

"I know," Arthur said.

"You know I need my dress shirt tonight, the blue one?"

"No, you didn't tell me that. I have to clean it, come on, the red one is fine."

"I told you, I wanted the blue."

"No, you did not!" Merlin yelled getting to his feet and glaring down at Arthur.

"Yes, I did," Arthur said innocently. "So get it sorted."

Merlin got to his feet, trying to gather up the equipment to take it indoors.

"You're such a annoying, inconsiderate, rude, inconsiderate, unbelievable…"

"You said inconsiderate twice."

"Shut up! That just means that I really mean that, or that you are double that."

"Just because I want my blue tunic washed?" Arthur asked innocently, while Merlin struggled to pick up the swords and kit.

"Yes, how… rude is that, you…."

"Inconsiderate… annoying….?" Arthur asked, backing up as he smiled.

"Oh… you…." Merlin got up and ran at Arthur who backed up, grinning from ear to ear.

"Rude…? Oh, yeah… discourteous… boorish… tactless…."

"Good vocabulary Merlin…"


End file.
